Archive of Our Own

“Hullo!” Cady chirps as she enters the door to 221B Baker Street, not noticing the state her dear companion is in on the sofa. She looks up after hanging her coat on the rack to find her pale and perspiring, and hears a weak groan. “Good heavens, Janis!” Cady drops her things and runs over to her partner’s side. “Whatever happened to you?”

“I feel… deathly,” Janis groans.

“And you look it,” Cady tuts, checking her dilated pupils and feeling her temperature. “Don’t tell me you’ve returned to your old habits.” Janis allows Cady to check her pulse. It’s weak, far slower than it should be. “Your pulse is weak and dropping, we-we need to get you to the hospital straight away. You are dying.”

“The antidote,” Janis moans, pointing weakly to the table nearby. “Give it to me.”

“Antidote?” Cady asks. “You mean that you have been poisoned?! Don’t tell me you did this to yourself. Here, drink it all.”

“I was compelled to.” Janis takes the small bottle and downs the whole thing in one go. Just then, Mrs. Norbury comes into the room to announce the arrival of Inspector Hubbard.

“Oh, Ms. Sarkisian is unable to see anyone at the moment, she is unwell,” Cady says apologetically.

Janis suddenly pops upright behind her, seeming in perfect health. “Ah, Inspector. What is it this time?”

“A case for you, Ms. Sarkisian,” Damian says. “We’ve brought in two young bankers from the city. Sons of lords, members of the chamber, et cetera. They were found stranded in a rowing boat drifting down the Thames.”

“A romantic escapade gone awry,” Janis says boredly, turning around to examine her nails.

“What? Well-it’s true they were both in the buff, but…” Damian stutters. Janis simply raises an eyebrow at him and gestures between the both of them. He chuckles and nods. “I have another that might be more to your liking. Sir Rodney Bentcliffe has been murdered at the Roman Baths. And there’s no sign of a weapon.”

Janis turns to him again, eyes wide with delight. “I shall meet you there shortly. Are you coming, Heron?”

“I feel I must,” Cady tuts. “But I’ll have you know I’m against you going out, as your doctor and your friend.”

Janis boldly cups her face and kisses her forehead, making Cady blush. “I am fine, Cady. Now come on, grab your hat!”

—————

Cady looks around in apparent awe at the room they find themselves in. Janis does have to admit it is beautifully extravagant, decorated with large marble statues and a rather tasteful fountain in the center. “My, how beautiful!”

“With a dreadful murder,” Inspector Hubbard pipes up, casually approaching them. “The body is still in the steam room. We haven’t touched a thing, per your usual instructions.”

“Excellent,” Janis says. There’s a gleam in her eye as she continues, “Then let us begin. Were you able to identify the men who were with him?”

“Ah, yes! Sir Gregory Pitkin, the manager of the baths; Garrow, a lad from the city council; and Blinkhorn, an archaeologist,” Damian informs her. “I am of the opinion that it’s Garrow. He doesn’t seem right in the head.”

“We shall see,” Janis hums. “You found no murder weapon?”

“No, that’s why you were sent for. The victim and all three witnesses were locked in at the time of the murder, and remained so until we arrived. We had to pick the lock to enter!”

“Was anyone else here?”

“Yes, a Mr. Phillips, at the desk there. He called the police, and will be able to give you more details.”

“My thanks, Mr. Hubbard,” Janis says jokingly. Damian tips his hat in response.

“Anytime.”

Janis makes her way over to the desk then, and Cady follows once she realizes her companion is no longer by her side.

“Good day to you, my name is Janis Sarkisian and this is my friend and colleague Doctor Heron. Would you be so kind as to answer our questions?” Janis says with what Cady knows to be faux-politeness. At least people seem to buy it.

“Ah, certainly ma’am,” the man says, a hint of anxiety in his tone. Cady watches in slight awe as Janis’ eyes track up and down the man before them and she seems to learn several key details about him in just a few seconds. It never gets old, watching her friend at work.

“Please tell us the chain of events from the start of your day,” Janis asks to start with once her observation is complete. “Anything you remember. The slightest detail may be of utmost importance.”

“Very well, miss. I came in this morning at six-thirty to prepare the baths,” Phillips says. “I did my usual tasks, preparing towels and cleaning. The brazier was still burning.”

“Pardon? There was a fire burning all night?” Cady asks in slight worry.

“Yes, Sir Gregory ordered me to light the brazier yesterday,” Phillips explains. “It takes some time until the room is fully heated.”

“Ah,” Cady says with a nod, gesturing for him to continue.

“The gentlemen had a meeting at nine o’ clock this morning. I wanted it to be perfect,” Phillips says. “They had been in the steam room for… twenty minutes, when I suddenly heard shouting. I ran to the door, but it was locked. I couldn’t open it. So I ran to the street to call for the police. One constable came, then others, and they picked the lock. Then the Inspector came and informed us nothing should be touched.”

“And did you receive any other visitors this morning?” Janis asks, bouncing once on the balls of her feet as she scans the room.

“Nobody, until these men arrived. Sir Gregory was the first,” the man says. “Then while we were discussing work details, Sir Rodney and Mr. Blinkhorn arrived together. Mr. Garrow followed.”

“And then?”

“I waited until they had all entered the steam room, then I returned to the hall. The changing room door was open, so I should hear if they needed anything.”

“You would have heard if someone had entered or left the steam room?” Janis asks.

“Certainly, ma’am. The doors make a lot of noise,” Phillips says. One of the witnesses must be the murderer, then.

“Thank you, my good man,” Janis says, leading Cady off toward the steam room.

The changing room precedes it, a large rectangular room with marble benches and shelves to hold personal items. Three sets of neatly folded clothing sit on the benches. Janis scans them quickly and apparently doesn’t notice anything of interest, apart from the fact that one set seems rather more expensive than the others.

What does catch her eye is a bottle of champagne, unopened and in a bucket of ice to keep chilled. Clearly intended to be enjoyed after the session in the baths.

They enter the actual sauna room then. A constable guards the only door, and three men stand clad only in white towels at the other end near the brazier. Janis looks delighted as she heads to inspect the body first. Cady follows quickly.

“Good lord,” Cady breathes. “How dreadful.”

Sir Rodney lies sprawled against the marble bench, arms spread as he sits in a remarkably large pool of his own blood. Cady quickly learns the source, his left eye. Thin but bright red blood tracks down his face and to the floor around him.

“Yes, a death with a particularly… Roman flair,” Janis hums interestedly.

“Like the one you almost had an hour ago?”

“Come now, let us forget about that,” Janis says.

Cady watches as her companion crouches down to examine everything she can.

“The wound should not have bled so profusely,” Janis hums to herself, dashing around on her knees so as not to leave footprints and taint the scene. Cady observes as she inspects his nails and takes an earth sample from beneath them, and looks at the ring marks on his finger.

“Death would’ve been an hour ago at most,” Cady says when she’s allowed to inspect the corpse herself, judging by the temperature of the extremities and degree of rigor mortis. “And would’ve been instantaneous. A vile act of savagery.”

“Delightful,” Janis says, sounding genuinely excited. “Wait, don’t move!”

Cady freezes as Janis calls to her loudly, and watches as she bends to remove a small gold key from the pool of blood next to the corpse. Cady stands from the body once it’s been retrieved and turns to her colleague.

“We don’t have many leads here,” Cady says.

“What concerns me is that we have yet to find the murder weapon,” Janis murmurs, clicking her tongue against her teeth. “For now, we shan’t worry. Constable!”

“Yes, Ms. Sarkisian?” The constable guarding the door asks.

“Please have the body removed without disturbing anything else in the room,” Janis asks politely. A few more constables enter and gently remove the body, leaving only the pool of blood behind as evidence of a crime. Janis takes a small sample to be studied for more clues, then stands to begin assessing the rest of the room.

“Sarkisian,” Cady murmurs quietly, pointing to the man standing closest to the brazier. There’s a large, bloody handprint on his towel. He clearly discovered the body, but did he put it there?

“Hm,” Janis hums disinterestedly, turning a switch on the wall. Steam suddenly floods the room, making it difficult to see more than a foot or so away. Janis quickly flips it back off and waits for the steam to clear. “Interesting.”

She heads to the brazier then, assessing the embers as close as she can. A pair of spectacles rests on the edge, one lens cracked from the heat. Cady can tell from the thick glass that they are for myopia, otherwise known as the wearer being nearsighted.

Janis attempts to get closer, but the heat is too much. Some melted metal rests in the center. “Heron, please remind me to find a tool to remove this metal so that I may study it.”

“Yes, Sarkisian,” Cady says quietly, marking it down in her notebook. She wishes she could do as Janis does and store all the important information in her mind. But her notebook has come in handy more than once.

Cady dashes after Janis as she exits the steam room and is quickly approached by Inspector Hubbard, who asks if she has any objections to having the suspects taken to Scotland Yard. Janis says she has none, and the Inspector moves to he steam room to gather the men.

Janis heads to speak to Mr. Phillips once more to inquire about the key she found. “Mr. Phillips, how many people have keys to the steam room?”

“We have just the one, for now,” the man replies, standing from his desk to speak with them once again. “Sir Gregory gave it to me.”

“So, you opened the steam room this morning,” Janis says rather abruptly. “What happened afterwards?”

“I put the key in my desk, but when they called it had disappeared,” Phillips says, looking to his feet. “I-I don’t know where it is.”

“Did you leave at any point, or receive any visitors?” Janis continues.

“No, miss, I did not,” Phillips says. Even Cady can tell he’s lying.

Janis points to a bit of paper sticking out of his pocket. Cady notices it to be a sent telegram upon looking closer. “You are not telling the truth. You did leave your work this morning. You went to the post office to dispatch a telegram at around seven-thirty.”

“But-how could you-“ Phillips stutters. Janis smirks slightly.

“The telegram was for someone in Manchester.”

“But it’s imposs-“ Phillips stumbles again. Janis just raises an eyebrow, and he crumbles. “I shall tell you everything. My sister wrote to me yesterday, and she needed a reply. Our mother is unwell. I left the baths at around seven-twenty to tell her to pawn my old school uniform to pay for the medication. I was away for twenty minutes, and I closed the baths on my way out.”

“Did you check to see if the key was still in your desk when you returned?” Janis asks.

“N-no, ma’am,” the man stutters. “Please, don’t tell anyone about this. Sir Gregory would sack me. I need this job.”

“I see,” Janis says, slightly coldly. “Do you happen to know who left the bottle of champagne on ice in the changing room?”

“Champagne? No,” Phillips responds, seeming to come back to himself slightly. “Do you think that it’s important?”

“We shall see,” Janis hums. “Good day to you.”

Janis then heads to a door opposite the entrance to the steam room, marked ‘frigidarium’. The cold room. Just inside the door to the right is a shoddy door, with a plaque labeled ‘Sir Rodney Bentcliffe’ just outside.

“This must be his workshop,” Janis hums, pushing the door open and stepping inside. It seems rather hastily put together, temporary tables set up to hold small archaeological finds, and shelves with larger items line the far wall.

“Sarkisian, I would like to examine the blood again, if I may,” Cady asks. Janis waves her off as she takes a pair of tongs from a table and leafs through a few documents on the desk.

Janis examines a large, curved metal plate, with a carving of a bridge etched into it. A short document rests on top explaining that it is believed to be part of a larger, unknown structure. Janis leaves it for now and heads further down the corridor to the frigidarium. She’s halted in her tracks by a thunderous rumbling. She blinks and is suddenly on her behind, a large wall of rocks and debris blocking her path down. She shakes herself off and coughs a bit.

“Janis! Are you alright?!” Cady yells, barreling down towards her. She skids to a halt when she sees Janis perfectly fine, if a little dusty, sitting before her. “Oh, thank heavens!”

Janis begrudgingly allows Cady to assess her for injuries, and her eyes fly open when Cady suddenly rests a gentle hand on her cheek and locks their lips together. This is new.

Unfortunately it doesn’t last, as Cady seems to realize what she’s done and pulls back with a gasp, scrambling away and pressing her back against the far wall. “I-I-I-“

“It’s quite alright,” Janis says soothingly. She gently pulls herself back to her feet and takes a small step forward, but Cady shakes her head frantically and stops her in her tracks. “Heron, really. It’s absolutely fine.”

“I-I’ll see you back at Baker Street,” Cady says hastily. Before Janis can say anything she’s running back down the corridor and outside, coattails trailing behind her.

“What happened with her?” Damian asks. Janis just shakes her head and dusts off her coat. “Are you alright?”

“Bit dusty,” Janis tuts. “Is there another way ‘round this?”

“Not that we’ve found,” Inspector Hubbard says. “If it becomes necessary we can remove the debris for you. I’m off to the Yard, would you care to accompany me?”

“Not just yet, I’ll likely be there tomorrow afternoon,” Janis replies, following him to the exit.

“Very well. Good day to you, Sarkisian.”

“Same to you, my good man,” Janis chuckles. She grabs the metal from the brazier in the steam room with the tongs and follows him out the doors once it’s cool enough to handle.

-

Janis hops out of the cab when it arrives at Baker Street, quickly paying and pacing off to the flat. Her hand is on the doorknob before she freezes and turns around to cross the street.

“Wiggins,” she calls when she notices it’s him. A watch for her secret police division is always there, but Wiggins is her personal favorite.

“‘Ello Ms. Sarkisian,” Wiggins calls back, resting down a toy cart he seems to be repairing. “What can I do for ya?”

“There’ll be two guineas in it for you if someone can track down Heron,” Janis says. “Don’t let her see you, just make sure she’s alright and let me know where she is.”

“Easy! I won’t let you down, miss,” Wiggins says, saluting before dashing off down the road. Janis grins affectionately and heads back upstairs.

——

Janis is too busy worrying for her companion to get any real work done, so she decides to reorganize her mind palace for a while. Cady’s wing could use some decorating.

After a few hours, a great cacophony of noise suddenly echoes downstairs, followed by the calls of Mrs. Norbury. Whoever it is wipes their shoes on the mat briefly before heading upstairs. She can tell by the polite gesture and the energetic step that Wiggins has made a return.

“We found Doctor Heron, miss!” He calls.

“Excellent. How was she?” Janis asks, sitting up before heading over to him.

“She didn’t seem very well, to be truthful, Ms. Sarkisian,” Wiggins says. “She’s in the park. But she ain’t going anywhere, just pacing about and cryin’.”

“Hmm,” Janis hums sadly. “Not much I can do about that, then. Here’s your payment.”

Wiggins skillfully catches the coins she tosses his way. “At your service, miss.”

Janis is deep in thought once more by the time he leaves.

————-

Cady enters the flat several hours later, finding Janis in her usual pose. Flat on her back on the sofa, hands pressed together in the praying position just underneath her nose. Unusually, she pops an eye open and sits upright when she hears Cady enter.

“Hello,” Janis says quietly. Cady can tell she sees right through her put-together facade. Of course. When doesn’t she? “Are you well?”

“Fine,” Cady whispers in agreement. She sheepishly makes her way over and hands Janis a pile of papers. “Here.”

Janis flicks through them. “Our rent agreement?” Cady nods. “Whatever for?”

“So I can move out,” Cady murmurs. “You won’t have to see me again, I’ll-I’ll handle it all.”

Janis snaps her head up to look at her, tossing the papers aside. “Why do you wish to leave?”

“You know what I am, Janis. You know how-how I feel about you,” Cady whimpers. “It’s unnatural. Why would you want to associate with me now?”

Janis gently approaches her dear friend. “You are missing a key element of the narrative, my dear Heron.”

Cady looks both baffled and terrified as Janis gradually gets closer. “And-and what would that be?”

“How I feel for you,” Janis purrs gently, wrapping an arm around Cady’s waist and resting her forehead against the redhead’s. “I admit I’ve grown rather fond of you over the years of our companionship.”

“You have?”

Janis chuckles quietly. “I have indeed. I’ve always thought matters of the heart trivial, a weakness. Waste of valuable brain power. But you’ve managed to work your way in regardless. And I find myself not wishing to attempt to remove you.”

“Oh,” Cady hums, flushing a spectacular shade of pink. “How-how long?”

“I couldn’t say exactly,” Janis says quietly, staring into the brilliant blue of Cady’s eyes. “But a very long time. How long for you?”

Cady grins up at her slightly. “Since the day we met.”

“Really?” Janis laughs. “After all that. I’m surprised.”

——

“Kenya or Tanzania?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Are you from Kenya or Tanzania?” Janis repeats.

“I-Kenya,” Cady stutters. “How did you-“

Janis rolls her eyes haughtily, seemingly having been through similar conversations before. “Your skin bears a lingering tan that implies you grew up near the equator. Your accent is African, and you have a large scar along your collarbone that could only have been created by a creature with large claws, most likely a lion or a tiger. Tigers live mainly around India, not Africa, so it was most probably a lion. The largest lion populations in Africa near the equator are in Kenya and Tanzania.”

“Incredible,” Cady breathes. Janis chuckles under her breath and raises a perfectly arched eyebrow.

“That’s not what people normally say.”

“What do they normally say?” Cady asks curiously.

“Piss off,” Janis laughs.

—-

“You’ve been invaluable to me,” Janis murmurs. “I daren’t imagine life without you.”

“I love you,” Cady whispers back.

“And I love you,” Janis says. “May I-“

“Kiss me,” Cady demands. Janis happily obliges, resting a gently callused hand on her jaw and brushing their lips together. Cady gives a quietly delighted sigh and threads her arms around Janis’ neck, tilting her head for a better angle. Janis marvels in how soft her lips are. Maybe Cady will let her experiment on them.

Cady gasps quietly as Janis sucks her bottom lip between her own and gives a gentle nibble, allowing Janis to deepen their kiss and brush their tongues together. The soft groan Cady allows to escape nearly makes Janis’ knees buckle.

They both look a bit dizzy and disheveled when they have to break apart for breath. Cady gives the widest smile Janis has ever seen, and squeals in surprise when Janis scoops her up in retaliation. She has remarkable upper body strength for her build.

“You have no idea how precious you are to me,” Janis whispers, carrying her over and resting her down on her experiment table so their eye levels are just about even. Cady tries desperately not to think about the jar of-are those eyeballs?!- that Janis brushes away to make room for her. “My conductor of light.”

“Your what?” Cady asks lovingly, stroking a hand through Janis’ hair and gently scratching at the base of her scalp.

“‘It may be that you are not yourself luminous, but that you are a conductor of light,’” Janis recites. “I read that somewhere. Some people without possessing a spectacular amount of genius have a remarkable ability to stimulate it.”

“Cheers,” Cady grumbles.

“Not in a bad way, my darling,” Janis amends. “You give me a… lens, so to speak. To shine my light through, give it a purpose. Conduct it. A light on its own has no point. The sun would be near useless without the atmosphere.”

“Oh.” Cady says. “I suppose that does make me sound useful.”

“You’re more than useful, dearest. You’re invaluable. Irreplaceable.”

“Yours,” Cady concludes for her. “Forever.”

“Does it bother you that the world can never know of us?” Janis asks quietly, nuzzling her nose against Cady’s.

“My world already does,” Cady hums, holding Janis’ face between her hands gently and staring meaningfully into her warm brown eyes. “Nothing matters to me but you.”

“I should hope your patients matter to you,” Janis teases. “Else we may get some strongly worded letters arriving soon.”

“You know what I mean,” Cady says, rolling her eyes. “Would you stay with me tonight?”

“Always,” Janis purrs, lifting her off the table and carrying her to a bedroom. She can’t help but notice that they seem to fit together perfectly when she tips Cady down into the bed and is immediately grabbed and held close. Like a puzzle.

—-

Janis yawns and stretches when she wakes the next morning, rather shocked to find that she apparently slept for at least a few hours. She can’t remember the last time she actually drifted off so easily.

She’s sprawled on her back, with Cady pressed against her side and her face tucked into Janis’ neck. Cady snuffles discontentedly when Janis gently kisses her forehead and removes herself, tucking her in a little tighter with the warm wool blankets.

-

Cady comes padding out of the room a full half-hour after Janis finishes her small breakfast, still in her nightgown. Janis grins slightly when she sees that she’s decided to add Janis’ robe and slippers to her little morning ensemble.

“Good morning,” Janis hums when Cady presses herself to her back as Janis looks out the window over Baker Street. “You look cozy.”

Cady just gives a quiet hum, not up to speaking quite so soon after waking up. Janis turns around to hold her, and Cady sighs contently as she’s held against her love. Janis rests her chin on top of Cady’s still unbrushed hair and closes her eyes.

“Did last night truly happen?” Cady whispers, muffled by Janis’ warm skin.

“I believe so,” Janis whispers back.

“Prove to me I didn’t dream it,” Cady begs quietly. “Please.”

“Shh,” Janis calms before cupping her face and kissing her sweetly. She feels Cady’s relieved sigh puff gently against her cheek. “Good morning, darling.”

“Good morning, my love,” Cady beams back.

“Mrs. Norbury made your breakfast,” Janis murmurs after a long moment. “Should still be warm.”

“Have you eaten?” Cady asks knowingly, pulling back to look into Janis’ eyes.

“Yes,” Janis chuckles. “Not enough for your tastes, I know, but I have eaten.”

“Good,” Cady chirps. “I’ll get some calories in you yet. Where are you off to today?”

“Nowhere for the morning, I have some experiments to conduct here,” Janis replies.

“Anything I can assist with?” Cady asks politely.

“It’s nothing particularly interesting, just a few analyses on some evidence,” Janis replies. “I’ll be off to interrogate the suspects this afternoon, however, you can accompany me then if you wish to.”

Cady nods, allowing Janis to start her work. She begins with the sample of earth taken from beneath one of Sir Rodney’s fingernails. She finds it to contain pyrite, selenite, and white clay particles. Based on the composition, Janis deduces it is white clay, which is found only around the city of St. Albans.

Now to the blood sample. Under the microscope, Janis is able to observe that it’s still very liquid, and has not coagulated well. She drops a few drops of hydrogen peroxide onto the sample, which allows her to see that the blood has been heavily diluted with water.

All that’s left is the metal she discovered in the brazier. Janis believes it to be silver. A simple test is all that’s needed. Cady naively provides her with a silver penny. Janis drops a small amount of acid onto both the coin and the metal sample, and observes the same reaction on both. The result is the same red stain. The metal is, indeed, silver.

—————

Janis heads to the evidence room immediately upon arriving at Scotland Yard. Four evidence drawers await her on the table. Three suspects, one victim.

She begins with the victim’s belongings. Janis finds and sneakily pockets a hand drawn map, and closely observes an ancient coin, and a gold ring etched with an Egyptian symbol, which has been repaired by an amateur with silver. All that’s left is a small notebook.

“Heron, my dear, please fetch me a pencil and prevent anyone from entering the room,” Janis says, upon observing the last pages to have been torn out.

“Er… okay,” Cady says, handing over her own pencil and turning to guard the door. Janis sneakily removes Cady’s handkerchief from her pocket as well.

Just as Janis has finished carefully rubbing the pencil over the pages and smudging them with the handkerchief, a constable enters past Cady to inform them that the autopsy has been completed.

“Ms. Sarkisian, the body has been- but, tampering with the evidence!” He says in shock.

“‘Today, I almost found it. This date will go down in history,’” Janis reads from the book. “Sir Rodney was on the brink of an incredible discovery. Simple tricks, nothing terrific. I could only save the final words, however. The rest is lost.”

“Perhaps the autopsy can give us more information,” Cady says, skimming through the coroner’s report.

“I am not sure that I can allow you to inspect the body now,” the constable says anxiously.

“And I am sure that you must,” Janis hums disinterestedly, moving to the next drawer of effects. Cady waves him along and joins her partner at the table. The next drawer is Percival Blinkhorn’s, and contains nothing but a pencil and a letter from Sir Pitkin urging him to hurry his archaeological work. Rather threatening.

Garrow’s belongings are next, and contain only the bloody towel from the steam room and a small bottle of herbs. “Do you know what this is, my darling?”

“It looks to be St. John’s wort flower,” Cady says, flushing slightly at the pet name. “We use it commonly as a treatment for melancholia, but an incorrect dosage could cause a rash, or even hallucinations if especially poorly used.”

“Hm,” Janis hums, pocketing the phial as well. The last drawer is Sir Gregory Pitkin’s, and is apparently of the least importance to her. An embroidered handkerchief, a very expensive fountain pen with solid gold trim, and a business card.

Cady follows Janis down to the morgue then, to inspect the body in more detail. Janis carefully peels back the sheet to the dead man’s waist, and looks to Cady for details.

“Er…” Cady stutters, flipping quickly to the correct page. “Ah. No issues with the heart or lungs except traces of fungus, most likely contracted during his work in Egyptian tombs. No stomach or liver disease, if we are to accept that he was sixty three years of age and an occasional drinker.”

Janis carefully flips the body over, and observes bruising in lines around his shoulders and waist, caused by a rope. “He was descending.”

“Where?”

“That remains to be seen,” Janis says, turning him back over and observing his face.

“A strange wound, resulting in instantaneous death,” Cady explains. “Inflicted by a curved knife.”

“Curved,” Janis murmurs under her breath. “Well, my dear, I think we’ve seen all we can, do you wish to interrogate the suspects with me?”

Cady carefully washes her hands in the sink next to Janis. “Are they particularly dangerous, would you say?”

“I would think not,” Janis replies. “But then again, one can never know.”

“I suppose,” Cady says nervously, following her back up the stairs. “But be careful.”

“I always am,” Janis replies, taking her hand to help her back into the corridor. The constable unlocks the metal door for them and escorts the first suspect to the interrogation room. Janis heads over to the small wooden table in the middle and sits across from Sir Gregory Pitkin. Cady leans against the cold stone wall and attempts to look tough.

“Good day to you, Sir Gregory, I am Janis Sarkisian. I am aiding the police with the investigation of the murder that took place yesterday morning. Would you be willing to answer a few questions?”

Even Cady can tell that Sir Gregory is on edge, looking at them with a haughty air of disdain. He slams a hand on the table and demands, “Tell me, Ms. Sarkisian, will I have to stay here much longer?”

Janis decidedly ignores him and rests her hands on the table. “You are the manager of the baths, yes?”

“Yes. I wanted to restore the ruins. My goal is to open the baths to the public,” Pitkin says, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back casually in the rickety wooden chair. “Living archaeology can be very profitable. Although now, I am not so sure.”

“I see,” Janis hums interestedly. “And when did you wish to begin your restoration?”

“When the archaeological researches are over, I am free to begin, it is the usual process,” Pitkin says loudly and haughtily, looking at Janis like she’s the scum of the earth. Janis simply raises an eyebrow before continuing.

“And what was the state of your relationship with Sir Rodney?”

“I’ll say we were not particularly close. He had an unpleasant temperament. Suspicious, authoritarian, unkind.” Pitkin spits. Cady thinks it sounds rather more like he’s describing himself.

“Was he obstructive in any way?” Janis asks. Pitkin seems to deflate slightly.

“Not in the slightest,” he admits. “Everything he did led us to greater success.”

Janis tuts slightly to herself before moving the discussion along. “Had Sir Rodney shown any odd behavior recently?”

“Now, see, I’m not a particularly suspicious sort,” Pitkin says. “But I think that he had professional interests elsewhere that he did not wish for us to know.”

“Why should you think that? Where?” Janis asks interestedly. Maybe they’re finally getting somewhere.

“I have no idea,” Pitkin replies with a shrug. Janis huffs slightly. “It’s not my business, after all.”

“How was work at the baths progressing before the arrival of Sir Rodney?” Janis asks, closing another lead in her mind.

“Rather slowly, I would say,” Pitkin replies airily. Janis pulls out a copy of the letter she had found with Blinkhorn’s personal effects.

“Then would you explain this letter? You expressed a desire to call off the work being done,” Janis says coyly.

“It’s all that damned Blinkhorn,” Pitkin spits. “Digging away merrily with little care and finding nothing of any value.”

“But Sir Rodney’s arrival changed your mind?”

“His work was extremely promising, and good for publicity,” the man explains. “So yes, I changed my mind.”

“Hm,” Janis hums kindly. “Would you please explain to me the events of yesterday morning?”

“It was a test, that morning, and a success,” Pitkin replies. “The steam was working well. But then, of course, that terrible murder.”

“And what did you witness?”

“The steam was too thick to see anything,” Pitkin says. “Ask that Garrow, he found the body first.”

“Ah, Garrow. Are you aware that Mr. Garrow is under a form of medication?” Janis asks.

“No,” Pitkin replies. “But I never liked that parasite.”

“Do you believe him to be capable of murder?”

“He did have blood on him,” Pitkin says. “Does that make him a murderer?”

“I shall ask the questions here. Do you know where the silver in the steam room brazier came from?” Janis huffs.

“Silver? No,” the man says with a hint of confusion.

“Did you bring champagne to the baths with you?”

“Absolutely not. Sir Rodney did, I think,” Pitkin replies.

“That’s all I have for you for now, good day to you,” Janis says politely, asking the constable to exchange him for the next suspect.

“Well, he was a pompous arse,” Cady huffs from her spot. Janis laughs and stands from her chair to stretch her legs.

“Agreed,” Janis chuckles. “I cannot say I haven’t been worse, but he is definitely one of the more… unique specimens I’ve interrogated. What are you thinking?”

“I think it’s either him or Garrow,” Cady replies. “Pitkin seems to me to be hiding something, and if the medication is anything to go by Garrow is clearly under some sort of duress.”

“Hm,” Janis hums. “Time will tell.”

The next man is brought in then. Janis waits for him to be seated and cuffed to the table, and apparently decides to remain standing for this one. Cady returns to her position and watches Janis assess the new suspect. His eyes are clear and focused, attentive. And Cady can tell from his clothes that he is most definitely not a man of wealth.

Janis gives her usual introductions, and learns that this man is Percival Blinkhorn.

“What is your occupation, Mr. Blinkhorn?” Janis asks almost kindly, as if they’re acquaintances simply getting to know one another.

“I am an archaeologist, I specialize in the Roman period,” Blinkhorn responds eagerly. His voice is clear, and remarkably soothing.

“Hmm,” Janis hums, sounding interested. “Can you tell me more about the baths?”

“Well, we were hoping to retrieve a great many interesting artifacts from the site, and to list any items of value before their eventual restoration and exhibition.”

“And has it proven successful?” Janis asks.

“It has, thanks to Sir Rodney,” Blinkhorn says. Cady detects a hint of melancholy in his tone.

“And what was your relationship like with him?” Janis asks.

“I couldn’t say that he was a kind man,” Blinkhorn replies. “But he was a talented archaeologist. I felt a great admiration for him.”

“Was this your first collaboration with him?”

“No, I had met Sir Rodney in Egypt, briefly,” the man says. “I shared my researches with him. Surprisingly, they convinced him to come here. He arrived only a couple of months ago.”

“Surprisingly?” Janis asks, leaning casually against the table.

“Well, Sir Rodney is-was, oh god- a cold man, and very secretive,” Blinkhorn says, looking at his lap. “But I learned a great deal from him in a short time. I cannot believe that he is dead…”

“Could you tell me what you saw yesterday?”

“We all entered the steam room and went to sit down,” the man replies. “The steam was particularly dense, and I couldn’t see anything much further after that. I just heard Garrow shouting. We all ran for the door and bumped into one another. I was very alarmed by this point.”

“What did you do?”

“Well, the door was stuck, and with all the steam it was quite frightening. I was barely able to see my own feet,” Blinkhorn says anxiously. “Garrow was covered in blood.”

“Do you believe that he killed Sir Rodney?” Janis asks. She does have to admit that much evidence seems to point his way.

“Oh, no,” Blinkhorn says quickly. “Garrow could not harm a fly.”

“Hm,” Janis replies. That certainly throws a small wrench in things. “Can you recall any recent behavior from Sir Rodney that would now strike you as strange?”

“Well, we had a small argument yesterday,” Blinkhorn admits.

“Is that all?” Janis asks, leaning closer to his face. It’s almost intimidating to Cady. And she’s not even nearby.

“No,” Blinkhorn says sheepishly. “Sir Rodney informed me that he was to attend the London Archaeological Congress with me. Then he rather aggressively advised me of the opposite.”

Janis nods slightly. “And how well were your researches progressing before the arrival of Sir Rodney?”

“Quite well, I would say,” Blinkhorn replies.

“Really?” Janis asks, raising an eyebrow as she catches the man in a lie. “This letter reveals that Sir Gregory was prepared to put a stop to your work at the baths.”

“Er… yes,” Blinkhorn stumbles, realizing Janis has him. “But since the arrival of Sir Rodney he had calmed down, allowed us to work. I’m not sure what they agreed on.”

“Hmm,” Janis replies casually, sitting on the corner of the table. “And what will happen now that he is dead?”

“Oh… I haven’t thought about that,” Blinkhorn replies quietly. He suddenly perks up a bit and continues, “But if it is needed I will fight to defend Sir Rodney’s expectations.”

“How admirable,” Janis replies boredly. “We discovered some melted silver in the brazier, can you explain its presence?”

“No, silver, you say?” Blinkhorn says curiously. “No, I don’t know how it got there.”

Janis nods, appearing to file the information away. She reaches into her coat pocket and pulls out Sir Rodney’s ring. “Do you recognize this?”

“Why, certainly. It is the famous Assouan ring,” Blinkhorn says, seeming a bit more chipper. “Sir Rodney brought it back from his last campaign in Egypt.”

“He kept it for himself?” Janis asks. From what she’s heard so far, Sir Rodney does seem the type.

“Sir Rodney has-had- his own… particular ideals of archaeology,” Blinkhorn explains.

“Mm,” Janis hums. She folds her hands behind herself and walks to the other side of the table. “What can you tell me about Garrow?”

“He always looks so sad,” Blinkhorn says. “And… he has been acting strangely, lately. He complains of visions and voices. I will keep an eye on him, I am worried.”

“Hm. And did you place the bottle of champagne in the changing room?”

“No, I did not.”

“I thank you, my good man,” Janis says, rubbing her temples as Blinkhorn is exchanged for Garrow, the final suspect. It’s quickly obvious to both Janis and Cady that Garrow is not well.

He takes his seat in the rickety wooden chair and folds his hands beneath the table, wringing his fingers. His eyes dart around the room nervously and he’s rocking himself back and forth slightly. He doesn’t seem to notice Janis speaking as she introduces herself and asks him to answer their questions.

“Ah, uh… um-“ he stutters when he finally looks up. His eyes are sunken slightly, and he’s covered in sweat. “Good day. I-I am Tristram Garrow.”

Janis nods almost comfortingly. “And what is your occupation, Mr. Garrow?”

“I-I-I am a councilor at the district chamber,” Garrow replies, still rocking slightly.

“Then what were you doing at the baths?”

“Well… I-I follow the researches,” Garrow says. “I’m… interested in-in archaeology.”

“You ‘follow’ them?” Janis asks.

“Yes. So many things happened, and-and we need to know,” Garrow replies. “Or-or perhaps it’s better hidden.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Nothing, I-I meant nothing by that, I apologize.”

Janis hums under her breath before continuing the interrogation. “What was your experience working with Sir Rodney?”

“Oh, it was like-like working with a genius,” Garrow replies. “He was… a hard man, but then, this is a hard world. Always people who want to steal from you. And-and he trusted me… but-oh-“

“Are you feeling quite well?” Janis asks in concern as the man before her suddenly beings rocking much more violently and his volume escalates.

“I’m sorry-his eye,” Garrow says frantically. “I remember-“

“Do you need anything?” Janis asks, already preparing to reach for the phial of his medication in her pocket. She wants to get as much out of him as she can before giving it to him, but she will if it becomes necessary.

“I-I feel bad, I can hear-“ Garrow says, looking around him to either side, appearing to see something that Cady and Janis can’t. “No-no. Nothing, I feel better now. My apologies.”

Janis gives him another moment to gather himself before she continues. “Please tell me what you can recall seeing yesterday.”

“The-the room was so hot, I had to remove my glasses,” the man begins much more quietly. So the myopic spectacles are his. “I was not feeling very well in there.”

“And you found the body?”

“I saw the-the knife, you know,” Garrow says, growing frantic again. “Flying through the air! And the blood, I tried to-to-to escape, I don’t-don’t remember-“

“You saw the knife? Are you able to describe it?”

“It was as if-if in a nightmare,” Garrow shudders, hunching in on himself. “E-everything happened so fast. It-it was shining like-like gold.”

“Gold? Hm,” Janis says under her breath before she moves on. “Had you noticed any strange behavior from Sir Rodney, as of recent?”

Garrow seems to think for a moment before he gives a weak nod. “He-he had been rather secretive these past few days.”

“Can you provide me any examples?”

“Last Thursday,” Garrow says. “I saw him leave. It-it was very late when he re-returned. He showed me some-some wet coins, Roman coins, and… he started to laugh.”

Janis pulls the coin she found out of her pocket. “Something like this?”

“Oh, yes,” the man nods. “This is the coin he showed to me. It-it is from the third century!”

“It must be very rare.”

“N-no, I don’t know.”

Janis pockets the coin again before pulling out Sir Rodney’s ring. Before she can even fully remove it, Garrow recoils and starts rocking heavily again.

“His ring! It should be destroyed!”

“Why do you say that?” Janis asks calmly, removing it from sight in an attempt to alleviate some distress.

“It-it is a cursed ring,” Garrow says. “And it is after me now! I know it! I shouldn’t have worked on it, it is too late now!”

Janis won’t be able to get any more information from him in this state, and offers Garrow his phial of medication. He visibly relaxes upon the sight of it and reaches for it hesitantly. Janis nods.

“Thank you,” Garrow says as he removes the cork. “This will help me to calm down.”

“Do be careful with the dosage,” Janis says meaningfully. Garrow nods, but Janis leans against the table almost threateningly. “I mean it. Now, do you know anything about the bottle of champagne on ice in the changing room?”

“What? No.” Garrow says confusedly once he’s taken his medicine and had a moment to gather himself once again. Janis nods and clicks her tongue against her teeth slightly.

“What about the silver in the brazier, did you put it there?”

“It didn’t help, the power is too strong,” Garrow replies, seeming to grow anxious again. Janis apparently decides to end with that, and has Garrow escorted back into the cell.

“That last one didn’t seem very well, Janis,” Cady says anxiously. “He seems very disturbed.”

“That, or he is a good actor,” Janis nods, flagging down a cab to take them home.

————-

“Janis?” Cady asks from the sofa that evening. Janis turns from where she’s stoking the fire in the hearth.

“Yes?”

“Why… why did you choose to be with me?” Cady asks quietly. Janis knew she still had something on her mind. “Do I not make things more difficult?”

“Come here,” Janis coaxes, reaching out for her. Cady wraps her arms around Janis’ waist and rests her head on her shoulder. Janis holds her as well, and gently sways them around. “You know me well enough by now to know when I am lying, so I won’t say things won’t be more difficult for us.

“But you must know that you make things much better, my darling. I’m loathe to admit it, but there have been cases I would have been unable to solve without your aid. And you gave me a reason to stop my old habits, who knows where I would be if I had continued? You make me… human. Your love is my most useful detective tool.”

“Oh.” Cady says gently. “You make me better too.”

“I’m not sure I can believe that,” Janis chuckles quietly, but Cady shakes her head.

“You have. I was so uptight when I moved here, you help me slow down, ironically. You help me see things from a new perspective. Stop and appreciate the little details in things I would never have even seen otherwise. And you know how dark my world was when we first met. The things I had been through. But you brightened things up for me. Gave me a reason to stay.”

“I’m glad, then,” Janis murmurs, kissing Cady’s forehead. “Did you know I was never looking for a roommate?”

“You weren’t?” Cady asks, pulling back slightly.

“No,” Janis laughs. “I had told Aaron I found a flat in London, and he asked how I was planning on making rent. I guess he didn’t believe I could, and took it upon himself to find me a flatmate to help. He had tried a few times prior, but I refused every one until he brought you to me. I just got lucky that you could tolerate my presence as well.”

“I do more than tolerate you, my love,” Cady murmurs. “I always have. But I’m glad you took a liking to me, I would never have even gone with him if I knew you never wanted me here.”

“I did, after we first spoke. I knew you had something special to you,” Janis hums. Cady beams and cuddles back into her, following along with Janis’ slow waltz around the living room. After a second, she pipes up again.

“Jay?”

“Hmm?”

“What cases were they? That I helped you solve?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Janis teases. Cady whines in defeat. “Maybe we’ll read through some of your old case write ups and see if you can work out which ones they were.”

“Okay,” Cady whines. Janis kisses her gently to make her smile. Cady grins weakly and kisses her back.

“One moment, my dear,” Janis says, appearing to remember something. Cady pouts again but watches as Janis removes something from her coat pocket and heads to the map of London next to the door. “You’re good at mind game things, come help with this.”

Cady tilts her head in confusion, but comes up behind her. Janis is holding up the map they found among Sir Rodney’s belongings and trying to piece out where it is. “May I?”

Janis nods, so Cady gently plucks it from her fingertips and removes the framed map from the wall to carry both over to the desk. She flicks the small lamp on, which makes the paper easier to see through. She finds the matching section down near the bottom right corner.

“There.”

“Ah,” Janis says eagerly. “You up for a trip?”

“Always,” Cady says with a smile, craning her head back to look at her. Janis kisses her before running off to her room.

“Then pack a bag!”

————-

The next afternoon finds them on the site of an archaeological dig.

“Are you sure this is the right place, madams?” Their cab driver asks in concern. Janis turns around to see where they are, then to Cady, before she gives a nod.

“Certainly seems promising. I’d ask you to wait here, you’ll be paid for your time,” Janis replies as she holds out a hand to help Cady down.

“It’s rather eerie here,” Cady says, refusing to let go of Janis’ hand as they approach the gate. She shudders when a slight breeze blows through.

“We shouldn’t be terribly long,” Janis comforts. “And by the looks of things nobody is here, we’ve done far more dangerous and unsettling things.”

“Yes, that gives me so much more confidence,” Cady grumbles. “Look.”

Janis does, looking to the sign Cady is pointing to. It lists the name of the site, but has been painted over to say it’s been abandoned until further notice.

“Why would Sir Rodney come here, if it’s been abandoned?”

“Let’s find out,” Janis replies boldly, opening the gate and leading Cady in. They head to a cabin near the entrance first.

“They left the door open?” Cady asks in concern.

“They either were in great haste or rather careless,” Janis tuts, heading inside. There’s a desk directly across from the door covered in various artifacts. Janis takes a thick document from it, and skims through pages detailing the cult of Mithras. A map is tacked to the wall just above her. “We seem to be in the heart of an old Roman city, my dear.”

“I don’t particularly care for it,” Cady mumbles, arms crossed over her chest. “Why was it abandoned?”

“I’m not sure,” Janis replies. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t wish to, my darling. I can finish up here and meet you later.”

“No,” Cady insists. “It’s not safe here, I’m not leaving you here alone. I just wish you’d hurry.”

“I will, dearest,” Janis replies, kissing Cady’s forehead. Cady nods and enters the room further, turning to a desk just inside the door.

“What are these little cubes?”

“I have no idea,” Janis replies. “Nobody here to miss them, they could be useful.”

Cady manages to stuff all of them into her various pockets and under her skirts to take home. Janis chuckles affectionately. She takes a few more documents explaining more about Mithras, and a special curved, golden knife used in bull sacrifices.

“I think that’s everything of interest here,” Janis says, dashing back out the door and over to a series of very rickety walkways leading to various other areas of the site. She heads straight first, down a winding sort of path to a large fresco.

“Sarkisian, please be careful,” Cady calls anxiously from above. “We have no way of knowing when someone was last here, these paths could collapse at any moment.”

“I’m fine, darling,” Janis calls back from below. She points to the fresco she’s standing on. “It’s the cyclops. And Vulcan, at a forge.”

“Interesting,” Cady says, sounding as if she couldn’t care less. “Now come back.”

Janis does, heading up a slightly crumbled marble staircase back to Cady’s level. Cady walks around on solid ground to meet her and they both head over to some rigs. Janis grabs some rope resting on a crate.

“What is that for?”

“Not a clue. You never know,” Janis replies with a shrug. “Help me with this, there’s something down here.”

Cady helps tug on a rope pulley, bringing up a toolbox from the bottom of one of the rigs. Janis takes and pockets a sort of trowel, but leaves the rest of the archaeological instruments where they are.

Cady looks very relieved as Janis heads over to what remains of a building, instead of darting around some very deep holes. At least the ground is solid over here, and things are less likely to collapse on their heads.

Janis bends over a crate resting on the floor and pulls out a few construction hooks. Cady grows even more concerned than she was earlier when she pockets them as well.

“Who are these meant to be, Janis?” She asks of some nearby statues. She knows she’ll never be able to stop her partner being reckless. Janis follows her out of the building and over to them.

“That’s Neptune, god of the sea,” Janis says, pointing to the one on the far left. “And that’s Minerva.”

“And the middle two?”

“I’d guess Venus and… someone,” Janis replies. “I’ve not read up on Roman mythology in quite a while.”

“I never thought I’d see the day,” Cady teases, turning back around. “The great Janis Sarkisian doesn’t know something.”

“There’s a great many things I don’t know,” Janis replies casually, examining a statue of a bull they can now see. “For example, what happened to this leg?”

“Weather, I would guess, surely?” Cady replies, heading to her side. The hind left leg of the bull is disconnected from the hip.

“Most probably, yes,” Janis agrees. “Well done, love. This way.”

“Oh, not more of these dreadful walkways,” Cady pleads as Janis steps onto yet another rickety path. She follows Janis down this one, for… safety.

“A site like this would have had a hundred people working, and they all crossed these with no issue,” Janis comforts yet again. “I have good reflexes and I know how to fall, darling. I’m fine.”

Cady nods shakily as they reach the bottom and look around. Janis dashes over to an area she observes to have been covered with mud. Intentionally, and recently. She pulls out the trowel she ‘borrowed’ earlier and scrapes it away in chunks, revealing another fresco.

“The frigidarium,” Janis pants, pointing to the label. “At the baths. Someone covered this up intentionally.”

“Why?”

“You ask a great many questions I cannot answer, my dear Heron,” Janis says. “I’ll have to investigate there. Come along back up, I want to check this other shed.”

“What is this railway for?” Cady asks once they’ve followed the wood walkways back to the surface.

“Removing excess rubble,” Janis replies, carefully crossing over to the area of the shed. Yet again, the door has been left open. She heads to some shelves directly across from the door, and finds a drafted letter to Sir Gregory Pitkin’s boss, complaining of his behavior. “Seems Sir Rodney had a remarkable amount of control over his archaeological sites.”

“So Sir Gregory has motive,” Cady says.

“He does indeed,” Janis hums concernedly. “Ooh, a crossbow.”

“No,” Cady says immediately. It’s been disassembled, thankfully for her. “You’re bad enough with a simple pistol.”

“Oh, pish posh,” Janis scoffs. “I’m an excellent shot.”

“Need I remind you how many pigs’ carcasses we had to harpoon before you got it correct?” Cady says.

“And need I remind you that I only missed four out of ten vases? Blindfolded?” Janis retaliates.

“I’m still finding bits of china in my bedsheets,” Cady grumbles. “You had to do that in our flat? You nearly shot me.”

“Nonsense, I was aiming for the vases,” Janis tuts. “Anyway, one last thing.”

“Thank heavens,” Cady huffs, following Janis to a small platform over the river. A bulletin board of sorts sits to the left, and Janis heads to observe it. Another map of the site and a schematic of a gastraphetes are tacked up.

“They used the crossbow and gastraphetes for sieges,” Janis explains.

“How lovely,” Cady says. “Have you finished?”

“Yes, my dear, we’re done,” Janis says, taking her hand to lead her off site and back to the cab.

————-

Cady refuses to let Janis go that night. Janis allows her to cling to her and cuddle close as they lie beside one another in bed.

“What are you thinking about?” Janis murmurs gently, stroking the backs of her fingers over Cady’s cheeks.

“Nothing important,” Cady whispers back, pressing her face into Janis’ neck.

“Everything about you is important to me,” Janis insists quietly, twisting a few of Cady’s long curls around her fingers. “You’ve been acting strangely lately, I just want to make sure you’re alright, my darling.”

Cady nods against her with a quiet sigh. “I am. I’m more than alright. I just… ever since we’ve been courting, I’m… realizing just how dangerous this all is. I’ve nearly lost you twice in this case alone, and we’re still nowhere near solving it. Everything we do is so risky.

“And as much as I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you, you getting injured, or worse… I feel that asking you to stop would be somehow worse. Everything we do is so ingrained into who you are. If I made you retire you’d resent me forever as we lived out our boring, miserable lives. I’m simply trying to appreciate what the risk brings with it. But I’m not quite sure how yet.”

Janis blinks a few times as Cady finishes speaking, trying to process everything she’s just said. After a few moments, she takes a breath to speak. “It is a rather delicate balance. And I do have to admit the danger of it all gives me a rush like no other; the thrill of the chase is a key part of my desire. But, I’ve stepped back slightly. The cases I’m willing to take now are significantly less extreme than the ones I used to go for.

“Because I have… a purpose, now. In you. I have more than a companion. I have someone I provide for, someone I care for, and care about greatly. I have… I have a future in you, that I don’t have in my work. I have something to strive for. I have a life with you, and that’s something I value above anything. I don’t want you worrying for my safety like this, I hate seeing you so anxious. I have you to return to at the end of each day, I take great care to make sure I do. It may not seem it, but I take much time to work out any potential consequences of risks and ways I could be injured.”

“I believe you,” Cady nods. “I’m just… I don’t know. I know we’ve known one another for so many years, but I somehow feel that I’ve only just gotten you. I have what I dreamed of for so long. I’m afraid to lose it.”

“You won’t,” Janis promises. “Not for a long time. I’ll always come back to you.”

“I love you,” Cady replies, cuddling back into her spot.

“I love you too, my darling.”

Cady is silent for a long time, just breathing in her love and enjoying the moment. But she pipes up again when Janis shifts slightly and wraps an arm around her waist. “You said you want a future with me. Do you mean that you’ll retire?”

“Eventually, yes,” Janis agrees. “I’d be willing to say I’ll have to at some point. My body will eventually begin to deteriorate, along with my mind. Or maybe one day I’ll decide the lifestyle isn’t for me anymore. But I’ve been blessed with a rare opportunity for a life of excitement that I have no desire to leave any time soon.”

“I can’t imagine you retired, you’ll still be running me ragged in our old age,” Cady chuckles. “What do you think we’ll do?”

“I’ve always liked Sussex,” Janis murmurs. “The countryside. And… erm…”

“What? You’re all pink,” Cady teases, kissing Janis’ warm cheek. “Come on, you can tell me.”

“I quite like bees,” Janis says quietly, flushing a spectacular shade of scarlet. “I’d like to keep a few hives. Make honey.”

“You like bees?” Cady asks, rolling Janis onto her back and hovering over her. Janis nods with a slight pout that Cady leans down to kiss away. “Why are you so embarrassed? I think it’s sweet. I would never have expected you to enjoy something like that.”

“That’s why,” Janis replies quietly. “Everyone thinks I’m just… interested in death and the macabre. Something as cute as bees doesn’t fit my reputation.”

“I don’t want your reputation,” Cady says. “I want to know you. Who you really are. Tell me about your bees, my love.”

“Er… okay,” Janis says. Cady presses back against her as Janis starts rattling off facts she knows about her favorite species. They both drift off tangled in each other, dreaming about some lovely beehives in the countryside.

————-

Janis and Cady return to the Roman baths the next morning. Mr. Phillips greets them as they enter, and eagerly informs Janis that the rubble has been cleared from the corridor to the frigidarium, as Janis had requested. Cady seems particularly displeased that Janis wants to enter the room that very nearly collapsed on her, but she just remembers what Janis told her yesterday and tries to calm herself.

Cady follows Janis down the hall and into a rather large bathing room. It’s overgrown and dilapidated, but still very beautiful. A series of pillars outline the large bath, and Janis approaches the one closest to them when she notices a symbol etched into the base. She traces her fingers around it and pushes, revealing it to be a sort of mechanism.

“Heron, could you mark this symbol down?” She asks, upon seeing there to be a sort of key-shaped symbol drawn that was previously hidden by the button mechanism. Cady carefully copies it down in her notebook and follows as Janis moves to the other pillars.

Nearly every statue turns out to have one of the mechanisms, but only three have symbols hidden inside. Cady watches as Janis seems to align the symbols in her mind and suddenly dashes over to a bust tucked against a wall. Janis rotates it, causing a great rumbling to echo through the room as a door opens.

“Incredible,” Cady breathes. Janis grins at her slightly and takes her hand, leading her towards the door. The door leads to a small room, with an open trapdoor. “Not more of this.”

Janis takes hold of the rope hanging into the door and climbs down. Cady follows anxiously, nearly falling until Janis grabs her around the waist and helps her down.

“What is this place?”

“I am still unsure,” Janis hums, looking around at where they’ve found themselves. “But everything points to it being the last place visited by Sir Rodney. I have reason to believe we’re approaching the end of this case, my dear Heron.”

“Thank heavens for that,” Cady grumbles. She points to the corner nearest the door, where several items lay apparently forgotten. “What could those be for?”

Janis heads over to investigate, taking and lighting the lantern to use. “A broken glass negative, and… an ice maker.”

“Why would Sir Rodney have brought such a device here?”

“With any luck we shall know soon, my darling. Only one way forward,” Janis replies.

“Or we could go back,” Cady mumbles unhappily, following her companion. “Whole place apt to crumble any minute, and all. Oh, of course not.”

“Look at this,” Janis says, pointing to one of the frescos on the wall. She’s either not heard Cady or chosen to ignore her complaints. Most probably the latter. “Mithras again.”

“It is beautiful,” Cady agrees. It’s clearly ancient and faded, but she can still see the fine details. Janis has already moved on to the next fresco. “A ladder?”

“Or a hierarchy,” Janis nods. Cady carefully writes down all of the symbols in the order they go in, just in case. “Right, this way.”

“Oh god,” Cady shudders when they enter the next room. It appears to be a catacombs of sorts. The walls are lined with mummies, and several large pillars outline the center passage through it. To Cady’s horror, large sections of each pillar are constructed from human bones and skulls.

“Heron, come look at this,” Janis calls, crouched against one of the far walls to look at something. Cady heads over and finds her to be examining yet another skeleton. “See his shoe. I’d date it to be medieval at best. This man was a tomb raider.”

“But look at his eye,” Cady says with a slight shudder. “His orbit is broken. This man met a rather similar fate to Sir Rodney. How dreadful.”

“‘By the eye he was punished for he saw what he was not worthy’,” Janis recites, recalling a transcript she’d read earlier. “Hm. Well, that’s enough of that.”

Cady gratefully leaves the corpse and follows Janis as she heads to examine the large pillars. They have small gaps in them, which contain brushwood. Janis lights the three she can, which causes shadows in certain shapes to be cast on the floor. But one of the pillars has collapsed.

“There should be a plate here,” Janis says. “Someone has removed… oh! Heron, wait here!”

“Wait, I don’t-“ Cady stutters, but Janis thrusts the lantern at her and runs off. Cady crosses her arms and tries not to think about where she is. It’s not as if she’s not well acquainted with death and corpses, but she still doesn’t care to keep their company.

Luckily for her, Janis is back within five minutes. There was a deafening metallic clang and then a small series of thuds, but Janis seems fine. She re-enters the catacombs carrying the metal plate she found in Sir Rodney’s office.

“Are you alright?” Cady asks as Janis dusts herself off slightly. “I heard noises.”

“Fell off the rope this time, I’m fine,” Janis replies quietly. So Janis had fallen through the trapdoor. Of course. “Over here, my love.”

Cady follows with the lantern as Janis heads back to the collapsed pillar. Janis holds up the plate to the same height as the others and closes her eyes. After a few seconds she opens them again, and heads to the shadows on the floor.

“A trident, a bull, and a bridge. Leads to Mithras,” Janis says, pointing to each. Cady can’t see the bridge, since that’s the one missing, but she trusts her partner.

“The dig site,” Cady realizes. “The statue of Neptune, and then the bull. The bridge must be missing.”

Janis looks at her with wide eyes, cupping her face gently and smashing their lips together. Cady gasps quietly before responding in kind.

“You have much more use than I think anyone gives you credit for,” Janis murmurs. “Another case I may never have solved without you.”

Cady smiles at her and kisses her again. “Can we please leave this place now?”

Janis chuckles and nods. “Yes, come along, my dear.”

“Thank goodness.”

————-

“Darling?” Janis calls from her analysis table the next afternoon. Cady pops her head out from her bedroom.

“Yes, Honeybee?”

“Honeybee?” Janis squeaks, flushing bright red. Cady chuckles and heads over to her.

“You said you like bees, I thought it was sweet,” she murmurs, kissing just beneath Janis’ ear. “Do you not like it?”

“No!” Janis says immediately. “No, I-I like it. Just… maybe not while I’m working.”

“Understood. What do you need, my love?” Cady laughs gently.

“I’d like to work out the purpose of these cubes,” Janis says, showing off the twelve cubes they had found the last time they were at the archaeological dig. “I thought it would be rather like a jigsaw puzzle, we could work on it together.”

“It does look that way,” Cady hums, nodding and picking up a few. “Come along.”

Janis grabs the rest and follows, sitting with Cady in front of the fireplace. Cady starts sorting them into groups based on where the notches are to make it easier for them. Janis knows she could have solved it on her own, probably in much less time, but this gives her an excuse to do something almost peaceful with her partner.

So, they sit and puzzle, chatting about things Janis used to find dull. With Cady even the most aimless of conversation is suddenly exciting and new. She hopes it stays this way. About half an hour later, the object is complete.

“It’s a mould,” Janis says. “Huh.”

“What does it make?”

“Haven’t the foggiest,” Janis says, delicately moving it back to her analysis table. Cady watches as she makes a quick dry plaster solution and pours it into the mould. A few moments later, when it’s solidified, Janis cracks the cubes apart to reveal…

“This is very similar to the knife that killed Sir Rodney,” Cady says in concern, as Janis holds out a small knife with a curved blade.

“You should not jump to any hasty conclusions, my darling,” Janis chides gently. “I’ll need to run some more tests. You up for another puzzle?”

“Always,” Cady grins, flipping the knife around a few times before resting it on the table. Janis lays out the pieces of the broken glass negative they had found while exploring beneath the frigidarium. This goes a bit quicker, since they can see where the pieces should fit together more easily.

“Could you process this with your old equipment?”

Cady nods, and carefully transfers everything to a tray to keep it together properly. She’s able to transfer it to photo paper, and gives the product to Janis to develop. Janis carefully prepares the proper chemicals and swipes them over the photograph. Cady comes to peek at what has been revealed.

“This is Sir Rodney, and another archaeologist,” Janis says. “Eating ice-cream in front of the Pyramids of Giza, in Egypt.”

“‘Ice-cream in the desert, we are indebted to the Romans who developed the technique’,” Cady reads from a note in the corner. “So salt and ice can be used to create ice-cream. That’s quite remarkable!”

“Indeed,” Janis murmurs in concern. “Thank you for your assistance, my dear.”

“Of course! Do you have anything else you need me for at the moment?” Cady chirps. Janis looks at the photograph once again.

“Actually… yes,” she hums. “Could you go purchase some ice?”

“Ice?”

“And salt?”

“Er… okay,” Cady replies. It’s far from the strangest thing Janis has asked her to acquire. Maybe Janis wants to make ice cream too. “I’ll be back shortly.”

“Thank you darling,” Janis replies, kissing Cady goodbye as she tugs on her coat and heads out the door.

In the meantime, Janis runs a different experiment. She cleans out the pot she used to make her plaster solution carefully, and prepares her gas burner. She melts the lump of silver they had found in the brazier in the sauna, and pours it into the mould. It’s a near perfect fit. Janis pulls out the silver knife and stares at it, flipping it around in her hands. One possible explanation solved.

—-

Cady comes crashing through the door roughly an hour later, brandishing a small sack of salt and a brick of ice. She drops both at her feet carefully and is panting slightly as she unbuttons her coat once more. “Ice is… heavier… than I remember.”

“Are you alright?” Janis chuckles, kissing her in greeting and picking up her materials. Cady nods and follows her back over to her work table.

“What are you planning with it?”

“Ice knife.”

“What?”

“I’m going to make an ice knife,” Janis replies. She places the brick of ice in a wooden bucket and grabs her chisel, and pours the salt into another smaller container. The mould is placed into the middle of the ice cream machine they had found in the catacombs, and filled with water. Janis uses her chisel to produce some ice chips and surrounds the mould. “Could you pour a bit of the salt in?”

Cady carefully covers the ice chips with the salt, and they repeat the process until the temperature is low and steady enough to have frozen the water solid. Janis carefully pulls the mould out and splits it open once more to reveal the weapon.

“Either way, it was rather ingenious to create a weapon that could dissolve at the scene of the crime,” Cady says, picking up the silver knife.

“Yes, quite,” Janis hums. “All that’s left is to find Mithras.”

“Must we?” Cady whines.

“Regretfully, yes,” Janis chuckles. “Remember what we spoke of, dearest. We’ve been through many a case together and come out the other side. Now we shall do so hand in hand.”

Cady grins weakly at that and cuddles into her shoulder. They don’t have to investigate until tomorrow. She’s going to take all the time to cuddle her partner she can get.

————-

Janis heads back to Scotland Yard the next morning, wanting to gather as much information about Mithras as she can from the suspects before she attempts to go searching herself. Blinkhorn goes first.

“Hello again. What are you able to tell me about Mithras?” Janis begins, standing across the table from him. Blinkhorn lights up.

“Oh, so much,” he says eagerly. “It was the focus of our work. Why do you ask?”

“Were you searching for the Golden Knife?”

“Ah, I see you are an amateur,” Blinkhorn chuckles. Janis furrows her brow but lets him talk. “Yes, the Golden Knife was our… Holy Grail, so to speak. It is said that it bears the only explanation of the ritual of the Cult of Mithras.”

“I believe I read something about immortality?” Janis questions. Blinkhorn nods.

“A simple myth. It is said that the knife would provide immortality, to only the worthy one. And yet it is cursed, and it would kill you if you were not initiated.”

“And did you expect to find the Knife at the baths?”

“Well… Sir Rodney believed it might be. Did you see the knife representations around? They are extraordinary,” Blinkhorn sighs. “Oh, it’s a tragedy that he has passed away. And taken all his secrets with him. As soon as I am released I shall continue my researches. In his memory.”

“How kind,” Janis says dryly. “Thank you for your time.”

Blinkhorn is then exchanged for Pitkin, who grumbles the whole way across the hallway to the interrogation room, and looks as if he’s ready to spit on Janis when she sits across from him once more. “I understand that the paintings at the baths are focused on Mithras?”

“Yes. They are what make the place so remarkable,” Pitkin replies angrily.

“Are they why Sir Rodney came here?”

“He believed an important ritual item, the Golden Knife, was hidden somewhere around thr area of the baths,” Pitkin says. “I admit it would be wonderful, if it were true.”

“You are not concerned by the… reputation, of this artifact?” Janis asks, leaning back in her chair as if they’re simply having a casual conversation. Pitkin chuckles sardonically.

“What, you mean the curse? Before someone is dead, it is a blessing. After they die, it becomes a curse. Ha.”

Cady raises her eyebrows at Janis as Pitkin is exchanged for Garrow. He still doesn’t seem particularly well. But Cady supposes that spending several days in a cell would have significant effects on just about anyone.

Janis sits across from him and watches as he begins rocking slightly, the way he did the first time. “Could you tell me about the Cult of Mithras?”

Garrow snaps his head up to look at her, his eyes wide and bloodshot. “No! There is nothing to say! We are not the worthy ones.”

“But Sir Rodney believed that he was?” Janis asks, leaning forwards slightly.

“He was-was wrong! I have visions,” Garrow cries. “The Golden Knife, the-the mummy! Oh, it is all my fault!”

“Calm yourself, Mr. Garrow,” Janis insists. Garrow takes his phial of medication from his pocket and swallows a portion just before he is escorted back to the cell.

Now to find Mithras themselves.

————

Cady pouts slightly as they pull up to the archaeological dig once more, but she smiles as Janis carefully takes her hand to help her out of the cab.

“Would you be so kind as to hold these, my dear?” Janis asks, picking up the ropes and hooks she had left near the gate on their last visit. Cady holds out her arms, and Janis rests them in her hold. “Thank you. This way, we shan’t be terribly long.”

“We had better not,” Cady grumbles, following Janis to the far cabin near the river. Janis rubs her hands together excitedly when she gets to use the crossbow. It has been deconstructed, but Janis pieces everything together expertly in less than five minutes.

Janis carefully ties the ropes to the hooks, and loads the first into the gastraphetes. From the platform over the water, she takes aim at a pillar about fifty feet away.

“Stand back, my love,” Janis orders. “I am not well practiced in this exercise. Yet.”

Cady stands off to the side anxiously, watching as Janis holds her breath and fires. She misses the first time, but makes contact with the leftmost ring on her second shot. She ties the other end of the rope to the platform and reloads.

Once all three of the rings have been hooked and the ropes tied, Janis carefully tests the strength of them and beckons Cady back over.

“Would you care to go first?”

“No,” Cady says anxiously. “But I will. Are you sure it’s safe?”

“Not at all. Ready?” Janis asks, taking her hand and helping her onto their makeshift bridge. “Hold right to the sides and don’t look down. I’ll be right behind you.”

Cady listens, gripping the rope so tightly her knuckles turn white. She carefully inches her way across the rapid river below, until she reaches the far side. Janis follows, and accepts Cady’s hand to be pulled onto the platform. They head into the door that had been previously hidden to them, and down yet another trapdoor.

“Are we in the hidden temple?” Cady asks.

“I am not sure. We should be careful,” Janis replies, pulling out and lighting her lantern once again. She holds it in her left hand and Cady’s hand with her right, and they set off.

A staircase takes them down still further, until they enter an almost circular room, with several ways out. A symbol marks the floor and above each door. They look strangely familiar.

“Did you bring your notebook, my darling?”

“Always,” Cady replies, pulling it from her pocket. Janis takes it and flips through pages of various things until she finds the drawing Cady made of the hierarchy fresco beneath the frigidarium. The symbol of the door they just came through is one listed on the bottom level. Time to work their way up.

“Stay close to me, we should tread carefully,” Janis says. Cady nods anxiously and squeezes her hand. Janis looks back up from the book and picks a corridor, hoping desperately that her theory is correct and she doesn’t get them horrifically lost.

They head through a few tunnels, getting about a third of the way up the ladder in the drawing. One of the rooms they enter has every path blocked by a gate. A pillar sits in the middle of the room, with three columns and several stones on it.

“What do we do?”

“What we always do. Solve another puzzle,” Janis replies, carefully picking up a stone. When she rests it on a column, it sinks in slightly. Cady helps choose which stones should go where, until all three are at the same level. When they get it correct, the gates lift with a thunderous rumbling. “Back to it.”

Janis continues following the drawing, leading them through the doors with the proper symbols. Just at the end, they reach a long staircase up.

“Where are we?” Cady asks, looking around. A series of metal gates surround them, along with several small waterfalls. Directly across from them is a statue.

“The temple of Mithras,” Janis murmurs, approaching it.

“The golden knife,” Cady breathes, pointing to his hand. “But how to get it?”

“We shall find a way,” Janis answers, bending down to inspect a broken lamp. “This is not old, the oil is still fresh.”

“Perhaps Sir Rodney left it?” Cady inquires.

“No, I do not think so,” Janis says, standing once more. “He passed no further than the catacombs under the frigidarium.”

“So that means…”

“The murderer left this lamp,” Janis confirms. She heads back to the center of the room and looks around, spying a few levers on the wall inside one of the gates. “Wait here, my love, I believe this to be a two-person job.”

Cady listens, and waits for Janis to call instructions to her. Janis twists the lever in front of her, which locks her in but opens a way for Cady to go.

“What opened?” Janis calls.

“A gate, here,” Cady calls back. “Shall I go through?”

“Please,” Janis says. Cady goes through. “Have you any levers?”

“Yes, there’s one here,” Cady replies.

“Turn that,” Janis says. Cady does, holding it until she hears Janis say to let go. They continue this, calling instructions to one another and testing levers, until a way opens for Janis to escape, and Cady has a lever to open the gate in front of the statue of Mithras.

Janis approaches and carefully takes it, before she heads back to her series of levers and gates to free her partner. There’s a staircase out to the surface that has been blocked by yet another gate. They coach each other through until it’s opened, and escape into the daylight hand in hand, as Janis promised.

—-

Janis goes into her mind palace once they’re back in a cab. Cady has learned over the many years of their relationship that speaking to her in this state is effectively useless. Janis is connecting many dots in her mind, and so focused that she’s shut away all external stimulation.

Cady watches as Janis’ eyes move under her eyelids, her brain firing off rapid signals as she pieces together clues and information to conclude the case. Just as they pull back onto Baker Street, her eyes snap open and she gives a coy grin.

“Have you got it?” Cady asks, despite already knowing the answer.

“Have I indeed,” Janis replies, taking her hand and running back up to their flat.

————-

Janis carefully rests the Golden Knife on the wooden table.

Blinkhorn looks up at her in shock, gently taking it between his fingers to examine. “Is this… the Golden Knife? How did you find it?”

“I am also rather fond of digging, Mr. Blinkhorn,” Janis replies casually. “One never knows what one might find. On occasion, exceptional rarities such as this. The thrill of the chase, one’s enhanced reputation. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Are-are you suggesting that-“

“I am not suggesting anything, Mr. Blinkhorn. I know,” Janis replies. “You found the knife. You are an intelligent man. The ‘ghost’ knife shall remain one of the most ingenious creations I have seen in my career, I do assure you.”

“Wait, are you accusing me of the murder?” Blinkhorn says in alarm. “No! I-I deny it!”

“There is no use in denying it, Mr. Blinkhorn. I know the truth,” Janis says calmly. “You had no choice. Because it is you who discovered the Golden Knife, and therefore you who must be the murderer. Sir Rodney was prepared to take all the credit for the remarkable discovery, when in fact it was your work.

“He would have destroyed you, to ensure the truth was never revealed. But I uphold the truth. And I shall tell it.”

“What-what do you mean? That you will spare me?”

“What I mean is that everyone deserves a second chance,” Janis says. “Someone very important to me taught me that. I shall be following your career with utmost interest. Farewell.”

“Fare-farewell, Ms. Sarkisian,” Blinkhorn stutters.

————-

“Sarkisian, I am afraid I don’t understand how you’ve come to this conclusion,” Inspector Hubbard says, sitting across from her in the living room while Cady tends to the fire. She also turns around to look at her partner, curious to see how she solved the case.

“Shall I begin with the method?” Janis asks, clearly relishing in the opportunity to brag. Some things never change. Both of her companions nod, so she begins. “I had only to observe the pool of blood around the body. You surely must have noticed it to be significantly thinner than typical, and that it had not coagulated properly. A simple analysis revealed it to be heavily diluted with water. The steam in the room at the time would not have been sufficient enough to cause dilution of that degree.

“I admit, I didn’t know what the cause would be, until we discovered the ice cream maker in the catacombs. The killer produced an ice knife there, and stored it in the bucket of champagne until it was the proper time. Once they were in the steam room, he killed Sir Rodney, and the heat caused it to melt rapidly.”

“Incredible,” Damian says. “I would’ve thought it to be the silver you found.”

“I had only to speak to Mr. Garrow to dismiss that conclusion. He is a superstitious fellow, and he put the silver in the brazier for spiritual protection,” Janis explains.

“And how did you deduce it to be Blinkhorn? That’s the bit I’m missing.” Cady asks. Damian looks back and forth between his companions, noticing the way they’re looking at one another. He smiles slightly. They deserve happiness together.

“Because he is, given a significant amount of critical thought, the only suspect that would have made sense. Garrow was not of sound mind, he was too weak to have carried out such an elaborate and well planned crime. Pitkin, on the other hand, would not have served to gain anything from Sir Rodney’s death. He had no way of knowing whether the murder would have damaged the baths’ reputation, and he was not working closely with Sir Rodney to begin with. He had slight motive, but compared to Blinkhorn’s it’s vastly insignificant.

“Blinkhorn had made one of the most astounding archaeological discoveries of our era, and Sir Rodney was prepared to trample him to take the credit for it. So, he had no choice but to get rid of Sir Rodney to defend his own career. He chose a rather appropriate fate for him, I must say.”

“Well, I thank you for bringing this case to a close, and for revealing to us Sir Rodney’s true nature. We shall be keeping a close eye on Blinkhorn regardless, but he has been released,” Damian says, standing to leave. Janis follows him to see him out. “And on a personal note, my congratulations. It’s about time. I wish you all the happiness.”

“Maybe you’ll make a fine detective yet,” Janis chuckles. “My thanks, Damian. Farewell.”

Damian tips his hat and takes his leave. Janis returns to Cady and pulls her into an embrace.

“Another one for your stories,” she murmurs, looking into Cady’s blue eyes. “And one with several fond memories for me.”

“Most definitely,” Cady says, threading her arms around Janis’ neck and pressing up to kiss her. “I regret I can’t share more details of the events of this one. But I shall get to work on it immediately.”

“Maybe not immediately,” Janis coaxes. “I, for one, am quite tired.”

“Maybe not immediately,” Cady agrees with a chuckle. “Come to bed, Honeybee.”

“Always, my love.”

Until our next adventure.