Work Text:
The detective sat beside the roaring fire. The flickering shadows made it difficult to read an expression. Or maybe that was just because of the detective’s alarmingly bushy beard.
“Well?” asked Macduff, Thane of Fife.
The Great Room of Dunsinane Castle was draped with red velvet, stuffed with stufffed game, and currrently occupied by the great men of Scotland—Macduff, Lennox, Ross, Angus, the other nobles, the Captain, and King Macbeth. The tension was so palpable you could stab it and expect blood to drip from the wound.
The detective did not turn away from the fire.
“Speak, speak, speak! Speak, man, monster, witch, whoever you be!” It was Macbeth who broke the silence. Everyone politely ignored the fact that he sounded slightly like a madman. “Remeber, you are here by our, uh… mutual accord to discern the most foul perpetrator responsible for the unnatural murders which have so lately been committed against the peace and stability of my beloved Scotland. Be warned, if you dare to lie, your life shall be forfeit.”
“My King, I have already uncovered the villain responsible.” The detective paused for dramatic effect and was rewarded with gasps, gapes, and Lennox audibly swearing. “I shall let no false word pass my lips. YET. I cannot speak without an assurance.” The detective finally turned away from the fire to stare one by one into the souls of the men present. “I ask, of each of you, an oath, that you shall protect me from bodily harm so that none punish me for the answer I give, should anyone accuse me falsely of falsehood. Without this oath, I must be as mute as the dead, for fear that I join them unjustly.”
Several thanes and the Captain began to speak at once. The detective turned back to the fireplace. Macduff moved to stand beside the detective, hand on sword, and took an hour to make everyone agree to the oath.
When all had sworn, the detective stood, cleared the throat, and began.
“All are aware of the crimes requiring redress. To me, the culprit is frankly obvious. To be honest, I am unsure why you required my services at all. I believe a fresh recounting may help you to see what I saw plainly.
“Good King Duncan was found dead in his bed, stabbed six times in his sleep at the castle of Lord and Lady Macbeth. The daggers used for the deed were found with Duncan’s two guards, who were both asleep. The guards had copious blood on their persons. The blood did not look as it would be expected to had it spurted from the wound onto the murder. Several witnesses described it being more smeared, or, quote, “finger painted” on the guards. The guards were unresponsive, with a strong stench of liquor about them, at the time the death was discovered. They would have been the last persons to see the king alive.
“Unfortunately, the guards were unavailable for questioning due to immdiately being slain by Lord Macbeth, in what he described as a fit of temper.”
Several thanes glared at Macbeth, whose face curled in a scowl. Before the king could speak, the detective held up a placating hand.
“I ask that comments be held until the whole bloodstained account is tallied.”
Macduff, still flanking the detective, put his hand on his sword again, and the detective barreled on before anyone (Macbeth) could start with treason accusations.
“Lord Macduff was first to discover the death, when, upon his arrival in the morning, he went to wake King Duncan for a scheduled meeting. He quickly raised the alarm. He, Lennox, Macbeth, and unknown others visited the scene at this time. Multiple witnesses confirmed, from the temperature of the body, that the King had been dead several hours at least, ruling out anyone who had not stayed in the’ castle overnight.
“The second murder occurred soon after the coronation of our new king.
“Lord Banquo, Thane of Lochaber, was killed while out with his son Fleance. Fleance, a boy of sixteen, has not been seen since, but seems unlikely as perpetrator given that Banquo’s body indicated attack by multiple adult assailants. Banquo’s body, which suffered several stab wounds and blows, was found by the wayside over a day after the murder. It was King Macbeth who initially noted Banquo’s absence, at a feast with Lennox and Ross where the king appeared to have also hallucinated some “gory” ghost.”
Several of the thanes now had dawning realization in their eyes. The Captain was shifting reflexively into a battle stance, his back angled away from his king. Macbeth, who was slowly turning purple with rage, seemed unaware of the shift in the room.
“Fie, you foul, indiscreet, nosy—!” Macbeth looked ready to brawl. The detective bravely pushed ahead.
“Such are the material facts of the crimes. Now we must consider witness evidence. Lady Macbeth, may she rest in peace, appeared plagued by guilt following the incidents. Her physician describes attempts to wash blood from her hands and frequent mentions of Duncan. It is well attested that Macbeth had a uniquely close relationship with his Lady, and they often worked jointly.
“Most dammingly, two servants saw Macbeth with bloody hands on the night of Duncan’s murder. One servant also attests to seeing Lady Macbeth drinking with the guards on that same night. Several chambermaids report cleaning bloodstains from the Macbeth’s personal rooms, and a laundress reported unusual bloodstains in Lord Macbeth’s nightclothes.”
“Macbeth, your shining crown belies your rotting soul. You shall not take another life. Your heinous deeds have been revealed, and your downfall, at last, is at hand.”
“Nay, it is not my downwfall! No. It is YOURS, all of you. No, no man born of woman can defeat me!”
Their king had denied nothing. Icy shock gripped the room. For all the suspicions brought by the evidence, few had expected Macbeth to confirm his guilt, and hands slowly reached for weapons.
The detective merely smiled.
“I am no man!” In one motion, the detective ripped off her fake beard and drew a blade from the folds of her tunic.
Macbeth went as pale as a corpse. “Who are you?” he choked out.
The detective’s smile grew wider. “My name is Wood. Birnam Wood.”
Now Macbeth truly looked as if all the blood had been drained from his body.
The detective addressed the room at large. “Macbeth, King of Scotland, has been found guilty of treason, treachery, and two counts of murder most foul. Thanes of Scotland, what shall be his sentence?”
The answer was clear in their faces, but before anyone could speak, Macbeth roared and drew his sword. Steel flashed. Macbeth lunged. Then he gurgled, he fell, sprawled, to the floor, a dagger buried to the hilt in the king. The detective stood, hand outstretched from the throw.
It was a good thing the carpet in the Great Room was already crimson. Some stains are tricky to get out.