Suspicion

Chapter 5

Sunday morning started much better than the morning before. Jones woke late and of her own volition. Not much of a morning person, she sprawled in one of the armchairs and luxuriated in reading a novel. She had started the book several times, each time getting distracted by something else. She was getting tired of the trying to skim the first third of the book so she could remember who was doing what to whom before digging into the main plot. As she finished the last chapter that she had already read, someone knocked on her door. Figures.

Remembering yesterday, she stood on her side of the door and considered what to do next. Yawning, she pulled out her wand and ordered, "Aperio!" to get a small window to peer through. She didn’t see anyone at first - only the gray stonework of the building. She grew still and waited, feeling as though she was watching for her prey to scuttle out into the open. For quite awhile, she heard nothing and saw nothing but eventually a hand waved in front of the door. "Identify yourself."

"Frau Professor? It is Siv Andersson. I am in your second section Ritual Magic class. I have a question regarding the homework."

Jones found herself snarling. Damn students. Why didn’t they pay attention to her office hours? They were clearly marked on the door. She caught herself just before she opened the door. What if it wasn’t a student? The thought struck as her hand touched the door. What if whoever was out there was wearing a black Auror uniform and wanted to complete the interrogations? The old paranoia started to set it. Not a good idea to open doors without checking first. Always good to have more than one way in and out. Maybe it was time to pack an emergency bag – just in case. "What’s your question?" She stood to the side of the door and started getting a defensive shield spell ready. You never know…

The sound of something being dropped softly to the floor caught Jones’ ear and then the rustle of papers and then finally something being unrolled. All perfectly normal student noises, but still she stood on her side of the firmly warded door. "Your lecture states that we are to use acconite in the second step. If we cannot find acconite, can we use the substitution chart to find an appropriate plant or do we have to go to the store room and fill out the forms?"

Jones felt as though someone had let all the air out of her as her shoulders relaxed. She took a deep breath and said, "Acconite works the best. If you don’t have any more and you can’t find anyone to give you any, you’ll have to go to the main stores to get some. See you in class on Tuesday."

She held very still and listened as things were being shuffled around and then someone walked quietly down the hall, back towards the main door. There was some kind of exchange, but she couldn’t tell how far away it was. Shaking her head, she swore to put up some kind of warning system. Maybe some kind of detector beacon at each outside door, something directly opposite her door… She had gotten soft. Not that long ago, she would have had a whole plethora of detector spells and eyes set around her place.

Almost without thinking, she pulled out a small bag and began packing some necessities into it. "Travel light, travel fast," she mumbled to herself. She repacked her "bag of tricks", which held her most necessary equipment. It was hardly ever unpacked, but it made her feel a bit more in control to have it waiting. Just in case…

The other way out proved a much greater problem. There was only one way into her rooms. She had a tiny window in the bedroom that overlooked a long drop down. It was a lovely view if you stood on top of a chair. Too small to climb through. Well, maybe not too small if she took her badger form, but then what about her tools? Not acceptable. She had spent too many years acquiring all of her equipment. She was considering this problem when someone else knocked on her door.

Her window spell was still in effect and this time the person on the other side was plainly seen. Wronski waited impatiently for her to let him in. She stood on tiptoe and peered to either side of him. He seemed to be alone. Reluctantly, she opened her wards and let him in.

"What’s up with you? Why didn’t you let that kid in?" Wronski tipped the visitor’s chair in front of Jones’ desk to send a small pile of papers onto the floor. With a twisted grin, he flopped into it.

"Wasn’t sure who else was out there. What’s up?" She didn’t feel in the mood for idle chatter.

"I need a favor."

"What"?

"Wards."

"Oh." She appeared to consider the request for a bit, but she was mostly wondering why it had taken him so long to ask. "Well, what kind? One way? Two way? Only you? Only you and someone else? Set by presence? Set by word? Set by blood? Lots of choices. Have you talked to Lowenstein? He’s the real expert."

"No. No Lowenstein. I think he’s busy setting his own. His door has a kind of glow around it. Looks like yours. I want something to keep them out." He emphasized the word "them".

"If they really want to get in, they’ll get in. They have a breaker on staff. I’ve even met him." Jones felt an old weight settle on her. They had broken her wards in Seattle. The magic cops there had told her that it had taken them two days to do it, but they had managed. They did it a little at a time. She hadn’t even noticed it at first. Everything worked just fine. Then, the night they finished the job, she felt a little ragged sensation when she walked into her apartment. It hadn’t felt right. She couldn’t figure out what it was. It had been raining all day and it was already dark. If you looked for the wards, you could just see them. They glowed with a kind of silver gray look which, unfortunately, blended in with the weather. But they were hers. They were a part of her own magic, tied in with her blood and with a lot of spells to keep them up. When the first one crumbled, she had felt it and knew too late what was happening. If she had been more vigilant and suspicious, she would have escaped…

"Couldn’t you set up some kind of alarm when they come in?" Wronski’s voice had a touch of desperation. "I don’t want to get hammered like that again."

"I plan on it, but it will be too generalized to be of much good. To make it really worthwhile, I need something from each of them. Not much. A hair. Blood would be best, of course." She smiled up at Wronski who had heard her lecture too many times about the perfect qualities blood had for any kind of spell. "If I can’t get blood or hair, I could make do with saliva or skin, maybe fingernails. But I’d need something from all of them or at least some of them…"

"Great. Not much chance of that. Well, I’ll settle for some wards for my chambers. I tried to find a way out of my rooms but there’s only that little window. I might be able to fit through it as a lynx but…"

"Yeah. Already been through that exercise," Jones cut him off. "Do you think they’ll be back? I don’t think anyone here even knows what’s going on."

"I found out who was killed. Heard it from the Headmaster." Wronski sounded smug.

"You were eavesdropping."

"Of course. How else do you think I found out?"

"Well? Who was it? Anyone we know?" Jones fished out her cigarettes and settled herself into her chair.

"Some rich guy, a baron no less. He was out here for a ski trip with his two sons." Wronski waited for her to ask more questions. When she didn’t, he was obviously disappointed. He waved aside some of the smoke. "Ever heard of Claude de Laval?" She shook her head. "Me neither. But someone has. They found what was left of him in the middle of a field. I didn’t hear what had been done to him. I gather that it was pretty gruesome."

"Where’s he from? Name sounds French or maybe he’s Swiss. You can’t really tell these days where someone is from by just the name. Wish you’d heard more about the body. Might help me figure out what kind of spell was used." Jones took a deep drag on her cigarette, drawing it down to the filter before she stubbed it out.

"Let me guess. You’re now a detective, too. My, you do know everything."

"Give me a break. I’m curious. What did they find that makes them suspect us? People die all the time. The Headmaster said it was 'graphic'. I wonder what that means?" She shook her head and pulled out a bag of chips. Lost in thought, she opened it and ate the first one slowly before offering Wronski some. They ate their way through half the bag in crunchy silence before she asked, "What kind of ward?"

"Strong. Very strong. What’s the safest?" Wronski brushed the orange dust off his hands.

"They all have some kind of drawback. The proximity one is nice because you don’t have to think about it. You just walk through it. However, if someone grabs you, they can get in, too. The word trigger, which is what I use, requires that you can remember some weird word that doesn’t easily come up in conversation and that someone can’t force you to blurt out. I still like it the best since the blood version requires you to prick a finger or whatever to lower the wards. You pick. There are others, too, but those are the ones I could do in an afternoon." She rolled the bag up as tightly as it would go. "You realize, of course, that, if this was a business transaction, the wards would cost about five thousand dollars. I would give you the amount in galleons, but I never got the conversion straight."

"Five K? For some wards? How much would it cost to kill someone?" Wronski meant it as a joke, but the look he got back cut him short.

"Depends. How would you want it done?"