The Framing of Jon Smith

[joegoda]

19992 / 50000 words. 40% done!

Sitting in Dick's car, and wishing we had coffee, I told Dick what I had seen.

"So... the lizard was right all along?"

"Not so much," I said. " But I definitely owe him an apology. He wasn't wrong about the fire, and he wasn't wrong about Barrick's involvement. Sparky sent us to the Barrick building. Mary took walked through the doorway to some tropical paradise. Now, unless there's a tropical Paradise in the Barrick building, he was sending us on a wild goose chase."

"Or," Dick paused. "A trap, perhaps?"

"A trap?" The thought boggled me. "What the hell for, Dick? For us?"

Dick shrugged and laughed. "I don't know, Johann. Just speculating."

A trap? Well, I had to admit it wasn't beyond the realm of possibilities, except I couldn't pin down anything that would have put Dick or me in a situation that threatened anyone to the point of laying a trap for us. "I don't know, Dick. I don't think I've ticked anyone off that badly."

Rubbing at the spot between his eyes, Dick said, "Johann, it is getting to be very late." He was right. It was 2:30 in the dark morning. "Perhaps," he continued, "it would be better to consider options and speculation after some sleep. From what you have told me, Mary is safe, and at the very least is being protected on a tropical island by one of the wealthiest people in the City. I don't see what we have to immediately consider that would require us to lose sleep."

"What about the murder of Mendlehousen?"

"Tomorrow," Dick said, "or rather, later today, Mendlehousen will be just as dead."

He had a very valid point. Mary was an enigma that may never be solved. She was certainly turning out to be unlike the Mary I had come to know. And although we were involved in something Robert Barrick was involved in, it was on the far periphery, about as noticeable as the fly on a window sill of a library. Actually, the murder of Mendlehousen was more of a police matter now. I had done my part. Looked into the past, seen the suspect, pointed her out to the local constabulary. My job was done.

After a heavy sigh, Dick echoed my thoughts. "You know, Johann, I think you should just back out of this. There's really nothing more for you to do."

I nodded. "Yeah. I was thinking that very same thing."

"Go home, get some sleep," Dick suggested. "Get some rest. Maybe Mary will make a slip and we'll catch her."

"It wasn't her that killed Mendlehousen, Dick." I looked at her. "I'm sure of it."

Dick nodded. "I am too. Which means that the bad guy who did kill Mendlehousen still needs to be detected." Dick started the car. "That means it's time for those who detect to get involved. You know. Detectives. Of which I am one."

I got his point. And I agreed with it. "Yeah, yeah, yeah." I sighed. "You'll tell me what you find?"

"As much as I can, Johann." He painted a cross over his heart. "I promise."

Dick dropped me off at Tommy D's to retrieve my thingmobile. The drive to my apartment was uneventful and I gratefully crashed down upon my sofa to grab a day or so worth of sleep. I was more tired than I suspected, which was a bit stupid of me since I had been up for twenty hours or so.

The crash didn't last very long. I was up, I was pacing, I lay back down. I wanted to sleep. My body wanted to sleep. My brain, however, was one tough customer and didn't want to buy into the idea. I kept thinking about how I couldn't believe what I was seeing at the Warehouse fire. Mary, escaping through a demon gate. Not something I'd expect, really. Mary was a decent enough person. Granted, she had her issues - we all do. And after a couple hundred years, I would imagine she had a larger share than other people. Still, in the few passing conversations I had with the near immortal woman, she didn't seem the type to kill someone. Period. Still, how to reconcile that with what I saw. Did I actually see what I saw? Maybe it was just an illusion, cast by a master wizard to fool someone into thinking that it was Mary. But then, why cast an illusion in the first place? Mendlehousen was killed inside a building. Anyone walking past that building wouldn't have known any different. An illusion of that magnitude for something that didn't even NEED an illusion... It didn't make sense. So, let's pretend I saw what I saw.

Why Mary? Why, for that matter, Mendlehousen? Why was he killed?

Okay, Mary and Mendlehousen. Let's assume that Mary was involved. I saw her on the steps of the Brownstone. Now, Mary can't use magic, period. This is not just speculation. This is magical fact. With the curse she has on her, her use of magic in any way would kill her because her existence is suspended by magic. It was one of the stipulations set up by the old witch that cursed her. Any use of magic by Mary herself would cause the curse to fade away, and Mary would be subject to rapid aging. Not a pretty thought. Ah ha! you might think. Why didn't she use magic when she was just a kid and get rid of the curse? That's an easy answer. Mary can't use magic. It's not in her genes and she doesn't have any talent for it. Still, let's say that Mary found someone who would remove the curse. She'd go from eight years old to over 200 in about the space of less than it takes to say it. Instant dead person. Back when she was a kid, and I mean waaaay back then, she didn't know any magical folk, I guess. Not that it would have done any good. Back then in Germany, folks of a magical bent were being burned at the stake, so a low profile was par for the course.

So, assuming that Mendlehousen was killed by magical means, and I'm betting he was, Mary couldn't have done it. Why was she involved? How was she involved? Questions that will have to wait. For now.

Why was Mendlehousen killed? Why was Mendlehousen killed? Rivals between magicians? Not unheard of, by any means. Every couple of years, there's a story of a couple of wizards, mages, sorcerers, whoever, dukeing it out. Lots of mayhem and destruction. Very little death, though. Apparently magical folks are very ethical when it comes to killing people NOT involved in their petty bickering. Usually the only thing that suffers is the immediate vicinity. There's a part of Canada that no longer exists on this plane of reality because of a sorcerer's feud. Crafty Canadians turned the hundred and fifty square foot area into a tourist attraction.

Was he killed because someone was jealous of his success? He was, pretty much, the most popular magician around. I mean around as in the world around. He had traveled to, at least, all of the major countries on the planet, and when he was entertaining the troops, quite a few of the minor countries as well. Maybe some up can comer figured if he took the big guy out, he'd have a better shot at the title. Or her. It could have been a witch. Not wanting to be sexist or anything. Still, most magical violence was done by the male of the species. However, the thought that Mendlehousen would let some upstart even get close enough to do damage to even a hangnail was a bit out of reality.

I'm hoping that Vinny will tell me how he was killed. Maybe it was a crush sort of spell, that pounded the victim again and again. Maybe it was a spell that teleported a hundred stones to hit the body all at once. Maybe it was a spell to send a dozen badgers to have their turn at it. I don't know. I'll let Vinny worry about it. Once I wake up, I'll be giving him a call.

Once I know how Mendlehousen was killed, maybe that will give me a better idea of who did it.

Maybe I should let Dick handle it. It's totally out of my hands now. I should sleep.

Let's, once again, assume that Mary was involved. Maybe Mary was an innocent bystander and Mendlehousen's dog somehow wandered out after his master had been killed. Maybe Mary heard the little ankle biter yapping away and went in the building to find out what was wrong. Maybe, maybe. Mary, for all her apparent age of innocence, was actually a grown woman, with all the needs and wants of a grown woman. It was only her apparent age that had been arrested.

Still... why did her house catch a fire, causing countless damage to many other houses down on Water road? What was that I actually saw there. A demon who may or may not have been a demon calling Mary 'your highness' and getting all chummy with her before blowing up. A demon who blows up. Who the heck thinks up these things? Demons don't blow up. They may fade away. They may go back to whatever hellish dimension they come from. They don't blow up. So okay, maybe not a demon. Maybe a... I don't know. A simulacrum, a puppet, a likeness of a demon that was set to explode the second Mary or a likeness of Mary went through the gate. I don't quite get it.

A demon, or close to it, who opened the gate for Mary. Or someone who looked like Mary.

Too many questions. Not enough answers. Not even enough of the right questions to get the right answers.

Who killed Mendlehousen and why and how did Mary figure into it? And why do I care? I should just walk away from it, like Dick said. I should let the detectives detect.

Tomorrow, I go back to Bridgeway, back to the Brownstone and see what I can see. Without any distractions in the form of my friend Dick. Something will turn up. Something always does.