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Deductive Logico was known for his magnificent eyebrows. They said much more than he could ever like, “Can I look at this?” and “Did you frame a magician for murder?” At least, that was what he hoped, but Dame Obsidian made no indication she was listening throughout the dinner. The group at large did not have great conversation. There was Rulean, who called over the butler for a favor every few moments, and there was Miss Saffron, who seemed more interested in her magazine than the food. She kept squinting at it. Dame Obsidian was the first to finish her food. She wiped her mouth with a napkin and dropped it onto her plate.
“Thank you for coming, or staying to some,” she cheekily added, “Now, I do have a lovely lounge where we can talk.” She picked up her wine glass with her and the rest followed. Logico took the time to finish his lovely meal before joining. Maybe he could get the butler to pack up Miss Saffron’s meal as leftovers, seeing as she didn’t touch a thing.
It was actually a very warm conversational pit. Obsidian stopped the butler to whisper something in his ear, but from what he could see nothing came of it. They all began to settle in, and the butler did award them with glasses of wine as well. Logico did not take a sip.
“Oh did I tell you?” Rulean started to Dame Obsidian. Logico was told. It was the first thing Rulean said to him. “I’ve recently been knighted.” Dame Obsidian choked a little on her drink before smiling sweetly.
“Is that so?”
“Forgive me,” Logico interrupted, “Does a knighting now mean you are and will be acting as a knight? Are you suited for that? Or is it simply a title?” Rulean hesitated as he processed the question. He decided, however, that the best course of action was to forget he was asked the question at all.
“I have the papers if you’d like to see them.” Rulean reached for his papers without waiting for a response. Dame Obsidian shot Logico a disbelieving look. Once the papers were brought out, Logico took them quickly out of his hands. From his coat, he pulled out his magnifying glass and began to read the papers.
“Does this mean you get a weapon?” Miss Saffron asked, finally reaching her nose up from her magazine. “A sword or an axe?” Her delight in the topic clearly took issue with Rulean as he wretched himself away from her.
“Do you have an axe?” He spoke the word like it was foreign to him. It left a bad taste in his mouth and he drank more wine to counterbalance it. The conversation was slightly distracting to Logico, but he didn’t need much focus to tell the validity of the papers. They were fake, obviously.
“I do.” Dame Obsidian leaned in. “It’s in the bedroom.”
“What lady has an axe?” Rulean protested. Everyone in the room glared at him for his revolting backwards thinking. Deductive Logico had to place both his magnifying glass and the papers down on the table to stare at him harder with his magnificent eyebrows.
“I am a famous murder mystery writer, alone in a large house. How else could I defend myself? Additionally, I have a butler and that simply invites trouble,” she explained calmly, finishing her thought with another sip. Logico hummed in agreement. He, then, recognized his opportunity to corner her.
“May I see it?” He asked. Dame Obsidian thought about it for a moment.
“Sure, but only due to the fact that if I kill you then and there, there will be no one to solve the mystery.” She smiled at him, and picked up their glasses. Maybe, he should rethink his plan, if Rulean’s terrified face was anything to go off on.
“Do you think he has a fear of axes?” Deductive Logico asked in the hallway to her room.
“Ooo,” she exclaimed, “A petrified knight? Our nation’s defenses are doomed.” She laughed, and Logico felt himself chuckle along. Part of him wanted the mysterious shadowed man in the alleyway to be suspicious.
They entered the bedroom. It was taken up mostly by the Alaskan-sized bed that touched from wall to wall. There situated between the bed and the bed frame was an axe, hefty enough to chop a tree, or a person, down. She sat down next to it.
“Well, detective, you have my full attention, why did you make the house call?” She mindlessly kept her eyes on the axe. She caught on quickly to his excuse. He tipped his fedora down. It felt shameful to look her in the eye.
“It was the fork wasn’t it? That was the murder weapon?” Logico asked, his voice low, but clear. Dame Obsidian’s eyes shot to him.
“How dare you?” She fumed. She too adjusted her cloche hat. “I am not some lowly-I may write about crimes, but I certainly don’t commit them, Logico!” He was thankful she did not motion towards the axe as she stood up. Logico didn’t look her in the eye no matter how much she tried to break his line of sight. “Seriously-”
They stopped as they heard a thud above them, then one set of loud footsteps, and another thud down the hall. Deductive Logico had heard that sound many times, a dead body. Dame Obsidian grabbed her axe and headed for the door. She halted him right before they left.
“Now, detective, I am not a suspect, nor could I frame a murder, from right in front of you could I?” She gestured the axe in front of him. He nodded and they left the bedroom. She muttered, “It was likely that godforsaken butler. Goddammit, I liked him.”
The attic entry was right at the entrance of the hallway and there was Rulean, Saffron, and the body. The butler could not be the murderer, as he was the murdered! Saffron looked over the body with her hands behind her back. Rulean slowly raised a hand and pointed to her.
“Well, the butler didn’t do it this time.”
“I’ll go ring the constable,” Obsidian informed and she rushed to the living room. Axe in hand, Rulean jumped away from her.
Deductive Logico readied himself to go check the attic. He patted down his pockets, feeling lighter than usual. His magnifying glass, he had put it down. How could he investigate without it? He kept a shaky eye on the suspects as he traveled to the lounge area.
It was not on the table. His signature magnifying glass could be the murder weapon. The implications were huge. He hadn’t been considering himself a suspect, but perhaps he should start. He turned and rushed back to the hall.
A sigh of relief came when he saw it in Miss Saffron’s hands to read her magazine. He snatched it from her grasp and she gaped at him.
“Please see an optometrist,” he instructed. “Where were you when the murders took place?”
“Oh, I was on the grounds. I just came in to ask the butler for some water.” She placed the magazine behind her back. Rulean stared at her in distaste.
“You absent-minded flapper,” he insulted. Logico reached his hand out for her magazine. She placed it in his hand and he swatted Rulean over the head. He fixed his hat and coat. By that time Obsidian had returned and Logico could make his way up the ladder.
Inside was nothing, but cobwebs, family heirlooms, and haunted paintings. It was the family heirlooms that intrigued him. There was blood splatter over an antique clock. This was his final murder weapon. He stepped back down the ladder, ready to give his deductions, when the doorbell rang.
“Oh, the back up butler,” Dame Obsidian exclaimed, “Perhaps the police would be the more exciting option.” She opened to what was indeed the back up butler. He was clearly a new hire and Logico wondered how fast the back up butler turn around was.
“Hello, Madame Obsidian.” He bowed to her and she curtsied. “Actually, I found this addressed to Deductive Logico.” In his hand was a small card. Logico rushed down to read it.
Just as he suspected it read, “Based on a card I drew from the marot, Sir Rulean had an antique clock.” Marot was, of course, his mystery helper’s murder tarot cards. No one else would deign to use such a concocted word, and thus it must be trustworthy.
The police siren rang in the distance as Logico pulled down his fedora and adjusted his gloves.
“The logic is sound and quick. The axe was with Dame Obsidian in the bedroom. The magnifying glass was with Miss Saffron. And-” He held up the card. “-The bloodied antique clock was with Sir Rulean in the attic.” Rulean scoffed. The police were at the door talking to Obsidian.
“Oh, please, it’s just a butler!” He cried out. Dame Obsidian joined them again.
“Yes, he was my butler, and I am a higher rank than any knight.” Dame Obsidian pointed the police to him and they proceeded to haul him out of the house.
Constable Copper approached her and spoke up, “We have to collect statements and such for the record.” Dame Obsidian nodded and moved outside from the doorway, letting the police go through towards the body.
“We’ll go to the ground,” she instructed. “Miss Saffron,” she called out, “Please join us in the grounds to talk to the officers?” Saffron dodged out of the way from the oncoming police officers and they all went outside.
In their earlier conversation, she was right; she couldn’t have done this murder. She didn’t do the previous either. Perhaps she was innocent. He gave his statement, easily. Then, he listened and made sure the pair’s statements were truthful as well. Miss Saffron even showed them where she was on the grounds. He sat on the bench, passively looking at his decoder.
Most of the police inside had made quick work and some even left. That was when he arrived, Lord Lavender. He was a rather composed man as well as a composer. Dame Obsidian quickly met him on the pavement. They hugged and after short conversation made their way back down to the group. The backup butler brought them drinks outside. They all sat in the garden, as the rest of the police left besides Constable Copper. Still, he sat on the bench, as the rest of them meandered around the grounds.
Then, he heard a scream.