A Cloud Before the Moon

Chapter 18

Letha was awakened several hours later by a knock at the door. She quickly threw on her robe, let Hagrid in, and gathered her belongings. They headed over to the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid told her Snape had already gone off with the Azkaban guards and a Dementor.

"I'm surprised they let him remain here all night unguarded."

"Oh, no," said Hagrid. "There was a Dementor outside his door all night. Dumbledore didn't want to permit it, but Fudge insisted."

"I see." It was a very good thing she hadn't actually tried to visit him that night. When they left the grounds of Hogwarts, she gave Hagrid a hug and Disapparated. She reApparated in her own apartment, and set about unpacking her bag. As she pulled out her files, a sheet of yellow note paper fluttered to the ground. As she picked it up, she felt a pang of guilt. She had been so preoccupied with Severus, she had forgotten to mention to Dumbledore what she'd found at the police station. Now she would have to muddle through on her own. If she was going to be so haphazard as to allow her personal feelings to interfere with her thinking, perhaps Crouch was right not to take her too seriously.

Letha considered the reports she was supposed to write. Dumbledore had told her to present Snape's case straightforwardly; she supposed he had his reasons for that. And in truth, she would not feel comfortable about writing it up inaccurately. Yet, leaving out the most interesting parts - what she'd heard in Dumbledore's office- somehow, that did not disturb her conscience at all.

Then, there was the unfinished matter of Black. If the Ministry knew she was poking around, discussing the case with Muggles, no less, she would most assuredly lose her job. If that happened, and if Sirius Black was innocent, as improbable as it seemed, it would not help him one jot if she were sacked. "Well," she thought, "I have to go back for the necklace. Maybe I can get some more information at the same time..." She had no idea how that was supposed to happen.

On her next day off, Letha decided to visit Officer Adams' flat to look for the necklace. Once again, she donned Muggle clothing and packed her 'LV' bag. As she had the first time, she Apparated in the park, and headed for the center of town.

It occurred to her that she had a major problem. She did not know how she had gotten to Adams' place, and since she had Disapparated directly from his flat, she had no idea where exactly he lived. She wandered the neighborhood for a while, hoping something might look familiar.

Letha stopped walking after half an hour, feeling it was all quite futile, and gazed into a store window. She heard a voice behind her. "Well, well, if it isn't the mysterious Miss Norma Jean Baker." She turned around and faced a tall thin dark-haired man. "So, how are things in Cambridge?" he asked. He was dressed in street clothes; it was apparently his day off.

"It's been very busy, actually. I have papers due, you know..."

"Sure do, Norma Jean." He looked at her pointedly and puckered his lips in amusement. "You know, you have to talk to them in the Registrar's office over there at the Institute of Criminology at Cambridge."

"Wha - what do you mean?"

"That is where you study, isn't it?"

"Well, yes, of course." She shifted uncomfortably. "Erm - the Registrar's Office?"

"Seems they don't know of any Norma Jean Baker registered at the moment. They must've made a mistake - don't you think?"

Letha blinked at him innocently. "I will - I will straighten it out just as soon as ...as soon as I can..."

"You're not a very good liar, Miss Baker. What's your real name?"

Letha suspected, quite correctly, that there was no point in lying. "I'm afraid I can't tell you. Does that matter terribly?"

"Not really, I suppose. What I'd like to know is, how did you get out of my flat without me hearing you? They should drum me out of the force for that. You could've robbed me blind, and wouldn't I have looked like a dunce? Of course, if that was your intention, you're not a very good thief either." He smiled wrily. "In case you weren't aware, a thief's supposed to take things. Not leave things behind."

"You found my necklace?" she asked with relief.

"That's why I looked you up. Well, part of the reason. Made a good excuse, didn't it?"

"And, just why did you want an excuse?"

"Come on up for a cup of coffee, would you? And maybe you'll tell me what you're up to? Maybe even your name?"

She hesitated. "No promises."

"None required."

She followed him several blocks to a modest house that had been converted into flats, and they ascended to the top floor. ('How did I do this in an impaired state?' she wondered). His flat was small and shabby, but neat. He pulled out a chair for her at the kitchen table and put up a pot of water to boil. "'Fraid I only have instant. Will that do?"

"Sure." ('Instant what?' she wondered).

He brought t two mugs of steaming water to the table and poured a spoonful of granules into each. Then he sat down, offering her a jar of sugar. "Now, I don't think you're the kind of girl who usually hangs around in pubs. When you gulped down your drink, I had to wonder a bit, but you got so giddy so fast, I figured that really wasn't what you're accustomed to, is it?"

"I was just thirsty."

Adams laughed heartily at that. Then he looked down at the table reflectively. "I shouldn't have taken advantage of your - condition - like that."

She took a sip of the liquid in her mug, which tasted like it was struggling to imitate coffee. Hesitantly she asked, "Just what condition was I in? I don't remember much."

"You really want to know? Well, for a while, you were busy with old Emmet. Giggling a lot, y'see - really got on my nerves a bit, if you must know. Then he got up to take a - to use the men's room. Next thing, you come over and sit down next to me. I'm just hunkered down there moping into my whiskey, as usual - I figure, I'm going to ignore you, and you'll go away. But you're smiling at me sort of funny - and then you lean over and kiss me. I will tell you, Miss Baker, you are a very good kisser. You certainly got my full attention." He shrugged. "Then Emmet came back."

"Was he angry?"

"Nah. Let's be honest, we're old friends, and - don't be insulted - but you're just some girl he picked up that day. He wished me luck and left."

"Then what?"

"Well, I'm still trying to ignore you. Or pretending to. I figured you weren't really too - aware of things, y'know?"

"Ah, chivalry isn't dead."

"Oh yes it is. Dead and buried, I'm afraid. You're an awfully pretty girl, y'know? And a great kisser - did I mention that? I asked if you wanted to come home with me."

"I suppose I did."

"I suppose you did."

"And then what?" She blushed. "I don't remember anything."

He grinned wickedly. "Well, there's not much to remember, actually. You fell asleep." She grinned back at him. He really was a sweetheart, she thought, especially when compared to a certain someone else she could think of.

"Oh - let me get you your necklace, love." He went into another room and returned with the tiny gold orb on its slender chain. He looked at it, then at her. "It's got some sentimental value, hasn't it?"

"I suppose so."

"You only suppose? You came back to get it from - wherever it is you're from, so it must mean something to you." His eyes narrowed. "Don't want to admit it though, do you? Then it's not from family, is it? And a husband or boyfriend wouldn't give you something so tiny. Well, not now. Maybe, to a school girl? Here's what I think - some boy gave it to you, when you were just a gel. He must still mean a lot to you - you still wear it, and going to all this trouble for such a puny thing."

"You're totally off the mark," Letha retorted, but in fact, she was alarmed at the accuracy of his deductions.

Then he took out his wallet and opened it. He pulled out some plastic cards and showed her a photo he kept hidden behind the cards. It was a picture of an attractive redhead with large green eyes. "No I'm not. Believe me, I know all about it. I'm a bleedin' expert. That's my ex-wife. She's a right one, she is. I still carry her photo around though, y'know? Sentimental value, I suppose." He shoved the photo and the cards back in his wallet, with a snort of disgust.

Letha was eager to change the subject. "Davy, thank you for returning my necklace. But, I'd prefer if you'd stop talking about it.. It's really no big deal. What's more interesting to me is what I came for in the first place - I want to know about Sirius Black."

"He's not the bloke you fancy, I hope?"

Letha smiled. At least she wasn't that much of a mess. "No. I assure you he is not."

"Adams scratched his head. "Then why are you so fascinated with a closed case? Black's back in prison - for life, no parole, I understand." He looked at her suspiciously. "You're not his solicitor, are you?

"On the contrary. I'm a prosecutor."

"Prosecutor? Bit young, aren't you?"

"Well, actually, I'm pretty much at the bottom of the hierarchy. But 'prosecutor' is part of my title, after a string of other words, like "assistant' and 'associate' and 'ignore her she's nobody important' and such."

Adams looked unconvinced. "First of all, I know all the assistant prosecutors around here. And second of all, they don't put people to work on cases that are already closed, do they?"

"But I'm not from around here, am I? And, I'll tell you the truth - I'm not supposed to be poking around; this is all sort of unofficial . I just think some things may have been overlooked."

"What things? What do you mean?"

She couldn't very well tell him. "Last time, you told me McCullough wouldn't have investigated a crime without getting evidence. Where is it? If there's anything, I want to see it. If not, I'll be satisfied - and that will be that. I'll be out of here."

"In that case, I hope we find something," he responded.