Nymphadora Tonks and the Liquor of Jacmel

27. A Time to Reflect

September 1994

After the highly eventful day that her Monday had proved to be - indeed, after the highly eventful month that her entire August had proved to be - Tonks was privately relieved that the beginning of September turned out to be a far quieter time. It gave her the opportunity for careful consideration of a number of things that she'd let slip or needed time to do.

The most important of these, of course, was the bombshell that Kingsley Shacklebolt had just dropped on her out of a nearly clear sky. She found that she was fortunate enough to have the leisure to reflect on what she'd heard, spend some of her evenings reading through the pile of notes Kingsley had left behind, and attempt to digest their contents.

As she did so, she found herself beginning - with an uncomfortable mixture of a familiar reluctance and a highly unsettling hope - to draw the same conclusions that he had, apparently, drawn before her. The accepted story of the case he was investigating, the one that had been reported in the newspapers, really didn't make a lot of sense; and unlike most of the other cases that were reported in the newspapers, it didn't make any more sense once you'd seen the information in the actual Auror files.

On the other hand ... although the story her cousin had told did seem to fit some of the facts rather better than expected - if you were willing, just for the sake of argument, to start from its premises - there was still the problem that there was absolutely no evidence to suggest that those premises were reasonable ones. And several things about the story were just as unlikely as the official line.

Tonks couldn't shake the feeling that she was missing something simple but terribly important.

"Neither can I," said Kingsley, when she mentioned this to him over an 'accidental' meeting at lunch a few days after he'd visited her flat. "There are probably one or two little pieces of information that would make the whole thing make perfect sense, if we only had them. But then, that's Auror work for you," he said with a grin. "Hasn't Cassius told you that yet?"

"At least a dozen times, mate," she said cheerfully, making a face. Kingsley nodded in recognition, but forbore to comment.

"How's your potion-pushing case going?" he inquired. "I heard that you arrested a suspect, but there hasn't been anything else in the bulletins. What has she said?"

"Nothing much," said Tonks with a shrug. "Denies any wrongdoing, claims she must have been set up, but refuses to discuss the details of the case, or her relations with her uncle or any of the other suspects" - here Tonks' voice took on a sarcastic edge as she imitated a tight-lipped Charlotte Perks - "'both on principle and on the recommendation of her legal advisor'. Very much a stand-on-her-rights sort of girl, our Charlotte. She claims - hang on, how did she put it? - we have 'no evidence worthy of the name and therefore no reason to treat me like this'. I don't know if she believes that or not, but at any rate, the old 'if you can explain this away we'll let you go' trick didn't work on her."

"Which you wouldn't have done anyway, of course, regardless of what she said."

"Well, no ..."

"Ah. Sounds like she has more than half a brain, then," said Kingsley. "That's always annoying in a suspect, isn't it? I heard Cassius was asking for a Veritaserum warrant while the going was good? Might not help, though. She's had plenty of time to work out countermeasures. Do you actually have any evidence, by the way?"

"Well, Don and Arnie found all that stuff in her house," said Tonks defensively. "And she's got a pretty obvious motive. And the only time I talked to her, she really didn't seem to like Aurors much - might have been scared, I suppose? They're taking their sweet time over the warrant, though. Think we'll get it?"

"At the moment?" He paused to consider. "Yes, actually, I'm pretty sure you will. If that's all you've got you wouldn't have stood much chance under normal circumstances, of course, but since Old Boney lifted the lid off the cauldron ... yeah, they'll probably sign off on it. Give them a bit of time - they have to pretend to be carefully mulling it over before saying yes, after all, and they're snowed under at the moment anyway." He chuckled. "Everyone in the Department has been putting in requests for the things we always wanted to do, but never had the chance to before. Don't know how long it will last, but it's nice while it does, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Well, I suppose so." She grinned at him. "I haven't been here long enough yet to tell the difference, you know."

He looked at her curiously. "How long have you been with us now?"

"Erm, hang on ... it's only a couple of months, isn't it?" She blinked in surprise. It had seemed much longer. "Lot's happened in a short time. Nothing like being thrown in at the deep end, eh?"

"I could have done without it, personally." He added softly, when she raised her eyebrows at that, "The war was still on when I started the job, remember."

"Ah, right. Sorry." Tonks winced, but then reflected that a mere couple of weeks ago, she wouldn't have been having this kind of conversation with Kingsley in the first place - or indeed, any kind of conversation that could be described as polite. That had to be an improvement.

"Nothing much else happening on our case now, anyway," she said to change the subject. "We're just going over the info we have, and scratching around trying to get a bit more, and waiting for that warrant. Everything's gone a bit quiet really."

Kingsley nodded sagely as he got up. "True. That's how Auror work goes too, Tonks, I'm afraid - extended periods of boredom and frustration, mixed with random bits of heart-stopping action. You just happened to see a lot of action early on. Here comes the boredom ... Another thing Cassius probably told you."

Tonks smiled wryly to herself as he left. He might have, yeah. At least two dozen times.

*****

Another side benefit of the slower pace of work-related events at the beginning of September was that it it finally allowed her the leisure to meet up with Chesney Thompson from time to time and see what might happen - at first, just for a quick lunch break in the Ministry canteen, then occasional longer lunches in the slightly less hectic setting of Florian Fortescue's, followed by actual proper dates out on the town. Her mirror was beginning to get snappy with her again after giving its opinion on suitable hair styling for the seventh time.

Tonks smiled to herself as she sat in the Leaky Cauldron one evening, where the wizarding folk group who had been playing (a truly terrible one, as it happened) had taken a refreshment break. Ches was, she decided, definitely a nice bloke - in fact the way he was acting, it almost seemed as if he'd taken lessons in being a gentleman from Cassius Scrimgeour. Or then again, maybe he's just a little hapless! Tonks actually wasn't bothered either way; at least it kept things nice and relaxed. She had far too many complications going on in her life already for the moment to bother dating anyone who was going to cause her hassle.

"What did you think of the show then?" he said as he returned with another round of drinks.

"Honest answer?"

"Please ..."

She grinned. "Bloody awful!"

He grinned back in relief. "Whew, I'm glad you said that. I was afraid you'd think they were the next Weird Sisters and I'd have to lie my head off."

"Yeah, right," Tonks laughed. "How did they ever get a booking?"

He shrugged. "There aren't all that many wizarding bands, I suppose. My brother said they weren't bad, but then the one who was playing the guitar at the back is an old mate of his."

"Him?" Tonks raised her eyebrows. "He couldn't have got the notes right if he put a Plucking Charm on the strings! Come to think of it, I reckon he did. I'm sure I saw him playing one-handed at some point."

"Wouldn't be surprised. He always was lazy. Alfie - my big brother - reckoned he has doing things at the last minute down to a fine art. Always been like that, even as a kid at school."

"Didn't we all?" Tonks chuckled.

"Fair point," he said, smiling. "You know, I don't remember you, but you must have been there when I was?"

"Must have been about five years behind you, though," Tonks pointed out. Um, actually I hope you don't remember me ... Her schooldays behaviour had been considerably less respectable than that which might be considered to befit a future Auror. And she didn't particularly want Chesney to put two and two together and associate her with the troublemaking Metamorphmagus who had achieved a certain minor notoriety. She breathed a slight sigh of relief as he gave no sign of making the connection.

"True. Weird how conversations on dates often seem to come back to Hogwarts, isn't it? Erm, I mean ..." He trailed off, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Yeah, I know, I've noticed it too," said Tonks, smirking at his confusion. "That's the bloody trouble with being a witch or a wizard, everybody anywhere near your age went to the same school at the same time! Maybe we should make a new rule: always prefer someone at least seven years older. Or younger," she added with a smirk.

"Oh ... right," said Chesney, with an uncertain look.

Tonks smiled mischievously. "Never mind, Ches. For you, I'll make an exception."

"Good." His grin returned. "Not ashamed to be seen in public with me then?"

Tonks glanced around in an exaggerated fashion. "No, I suppose not. After all, I let you drag me out here to watch dreadful bands, didn't I? And if all else fails and somebody sees me, I could always Memory Charm them or something to keep up my reputation."

"Oh yeah. So, would you be willing to risk a big Ministry bash with me then? If you're going ... I mean, it's a good do usually ..."

"The Ministry Halloween Ball?" said Tonks, interested. "Yeah, I've already got my ticket for that. Does that mean I don't have to look for a partner as well?"

"Well, if you'd like to ..."

Tonks smiled. "Of course I would, you twit. Thanks for asking. As long as you don't mind not much actual dancing being involved, though? I don't do dances."

"Why not?" he said, a little crestfallen.

She smiled again, rather sadly this time. "Come on Ches. You know me well enough by now, don't you? I sometimes trip over my own feet when I'm walking. Trying to do a foxtrot is a bit ... well, ambitious."

"Ah." He looked at her assessingly for a moment, then gave her an evil grin. "Well, we may be able to do something about that."

"What?" she asked suspiciously.

"Wait and see!"

And try as she might, no amount of cajoling or threatening would get any more out of him than that. She briefly considered the possibility of being worried by whatever it was he had in mind, but then decided just to let it go. After all, she really didn't need any more complications to worry about.

*****

Kingsley might label routine investigations as 'boredom,' but Tonks actually found them quite relaxing. The Wizengamot (as he had predicted, but Cassius for once hadn't) were dragging their feet over the warrant for form's sake, while privately giving them a nod-and-a-wink indication that it would shortly be forthcoming. The team's somewhat cynical consensus was that the sudden influx of requests for warrants had overburdened the limited ability of the Administration Services bureaucracy to process the necessary paperwork; Cassius in particular seemed surprisingly unconcerned by this, and informed the rest of them in an airy manner that it wouldn't hurt to let their suspect 'think things over' for a while anyway.

The analysis of the bottle found at Charlotte Perks' house came in a few days after the arrest and (to Tonks' excitement) showed that it did indeed contain a trace of Liquor of Jacmel, a fact which they immediately passed on to the bureaucrats in the hope of speeding their decision. This information proved quite convenient in other ways too; their suspect's representative had tried his best to get her out of custody, so Cassius instructed the team to charge her with 'possession of Liquor of Jacmel' for the time being. Although it was only a few drops, it was enough to keep her in the cells, much to her annoyance. Tonks privately felt that Charlotte was lucky to be held there rather than in Azkaban; she supposed that the fear that she might be sent there to await interrogation or trial was probably another good reason for her keenness to expedite things, and another useful (if slightly worrying) threat to hold over her.

Meanwhile, Mackenzie Ashford had been informed about the arrest of his niece and the evidence found in her home by O'Gregan; and he had, predictably, been shattered by the news. The Irishman reported sadly that it was clear he'd been hoping against hope that it hadn't really been one of his family who was involved. He even dropped round on a couple of occasions away from work to attempt to console Ashford; Tonks was amused by this, but it did raise her opinion of Don O'Gregan a notch or two.

However, both she and Cassius were happy to push the Ashford case to the backs of their minds, leaving it to the other two to work on, while they themselves concentrated on the Ballantyne murder. With occasional help from the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol, they started the slow process of interviewing everyone they could find who knew, or might have known, Sylvester Ballantyne. That included Benjamin Farley, who (as Cassius pointed out) was, after all, both strongly connected with the use of Liquor of Jacmel, and also known to move in criminal circles; but when Tonks called on him, he vehemently denied knowing Ballantyne or anything about his murder, with a look so comically panic-stricken that she reluctantly accepted he was probably telling the truth, even without the assistance of Veritaserum.

Much to Tonks' surprise, O'Gregan and Cornworthy turned out actually to be taking their plan for trailing and observing Portia Blackstock seriously. After the arrest of Charlotte Perks, Tonks had half written off Portia's connection in the affair, as being just one of those apparently inexplicable things that would doubtless become clearer with time; but her colleagues were spending many of their work hours in Birmingham, taking turns to follow her around doggedly under an invisibility cloak requisitioned from K, and the remainder making discreet inquiries among her contacts, and slightly less discreet inquiries among those of Charlotte Perks, trying to find a link between them. And much to Tonks' amusement, they had little of value to show for it.

Portia seemed to have no especially close friends or companions ("not even a hint of a boyfriend, what a terrible waste" Cornworthy reported dryly). When she ventured out, she spent a little time at the offices of the charity at which she helped out (without seeming to actually do very much, except make light gossip with her fellow volunteers). She spent a lot of time shopping (but not from any notably disreputable vendors). Occasionally, she visited a beauty salon in the Magical Market (at the thought of entering this, even while invisible, O'Gregan blanched and called in Rhiannon Davies to help). She went to a formal evening function with her parents on one occasion (spending most of it looking politely bored and allowing the rest of the table to make dinner-party conversation). And she spent much of her time at home (where even O'Gregan had the common sense not to interfere). In fact, in general she behaved over these weeks in a manner that the Irishman described in disgust as 'exceptionally vacuous'.

"You're really following her everywhere under that thing?" asked Tonks one day, trying desperately to stifle her giggles. "Even into shops, and those charity offices? What happens if someone bumps into you?"

"No-one thinks much of it in a crowd, so there," said O'Gregan with dignity. "And they put her out on a sort of reception desk in that charity office to look decorative, so I have been able to stand out front, quiet as a very discreet kind of mouse, and listen in. I was hoping that they would say something useful and interesting about Miss Perks, so I was, but no luck."

"You're obsessed, aren't you?"

"No! Well ... maybe a little. I do not like pretty little rich girls who think they can get away with murder ... or attempted murder in this case, although that is not for the want of trying, is it now?"

"He may be a trifle biased against them," said Cornworthy to Tonks sotto voce, although with a twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"I heard that, Arnie," said O'Gregan in an aggrieved tone.

"So this Blackstock girl hasn't said anything about Perks then?" asked Tonks thoughtfully. "That's odd in itself, I suppose. It did get a brief report in the Prophet - you'd think someone must have seen it, and there can't be so many people working at that place that one of them being nicked on an Azkaban charge isn't worth talking about ..."

"They did discuss it a bit," said Cornworthy glumly. "With a sort of ghoulish relish, of course, although young Portia didn't contribute much. Don here seems to be hoping that she'll somehow break down in terror, though. Well, that doesn't sound like a girl who had the nerve to walk into a place like the Transfigured Toad bold as brass on a rowdy Friday night, does it?"

"Did she give any hint she'd been there?" asked Tonks. "Sounds like she must have known Perks at least?"

"She did the oh-I-would-never-have-thought-it-as-far-as-I-could-see-she-seemed-like-a-nice-enough-person bit, but that's all," said O'Gregan, running the words together in a squeaky, high-pitched voice that was apparently meant to be an impression of Portia Blackstock (but sounded more like an out-of-breath house-elf to Tonks). "But everyone else seemed to know enough about her, so I don't see why little Portia would not do so. I mean, come on now, blonde or not, no-one can be that dumb."

"Don't let Rhiannon hear you say that," said Tonks, grinning.

"Ah well, exceptions to every rule ..."

"Let me hear what?" said Rhiannon Davies in an innocent voice as she walked up behind her boyfriend. She gave Tonks and Cornworthy a quick wink to indicate that she'd heard perfectly well. The momentary look of horror on O'Gregan's face was beautiful to see, however.

"Ah ... eh ...that you're not getting anywhere on that there case of yours, my love," he said quickly, with a pleading glance at the other two Aurors, who did their best to remain straight faced. It had the desired effect of distracting Rhiannon from what he'd said, though, She scowled.

"Don't I know it. Same pattern on the latest incident. Muggle kidnapped in an out-of-the-way spot - up near Inverness this time - usual Cruciatus, as far as we can tell from a first test. Then killed, branded, and left for their police to find. Sick bastard, but he knows how to cover his tracks."

"Branded with what?" asked Tonks, nauseated.

Rhiannon shrugged. "I suppose it means something to him. Like a ... oh I don't know, a teardrop inside a circle with lines around it? Find me a meaning for that, at least we'd have a start. Anyway, I came to tell Cassius that if he needs any help, I can chip in again if he likes. I'm not getting anywhere. Where is he, by the way?"

Tonks shrugged in turn. "No idea. He wasn't here when I got back from talking to some of the Knockturn Alley vendors - as myself, this time - and he didn't leave a note."

"Any luck?"

"No chance. We had a vague hope that somebody there would have liked Ballantyne enough to help us by discussing who he might have known, or at least be a bit worried they might be targets too - but if anything, it's affected them the other way. They made a sphinx seem informative."

"Pretty standard, then. Are you checking up on Charlotte Perks' contacts?"

"Er, when we can," Tonks said evasively. She hadn't given it much thought. "These two were doing just fine on that. I don't suppose the link will be that easy to find, will it?"

"No indeed," said O'Gregan, with a sour look. "None of the people we talked to seem to think they were particular friends. Of course she could have met her privately ... but we wouldn't know, would we? We should have kept a closer eye on Miss Portia before we made the arrest. She's been very careful not to slip out of the house unannounced since then."

"How can you be sure?" said Tonks, intrigued.

O'Gregan looked rather shifty. "Trigger wards and a Tracking Spell," he said in a voice pitched a little lower than usual. "Cast very gently so as not to disturb the little lady, but we always know when she leaves the house. We're just waiting now for her to come out. Soon as she does, we'll Apparate straight there."

"Donnie ..." said Rhiannon, with a worried look. "You know we're not really supposed to use those without a good reason, Claymore doesn't think they're worth the potential aggravation -"

He dismissed this with a wave of his hand. "Ah well, at the moment I daresay no-one will care, will they? And I maintain that with her seen with Farley in the Toad, we have more than enough suspicion of her to justify it, so I do." He lowered his voice again. "And not to gossip now, but the way things are going, I wouldn't be at all surprised if Claymore isn't the one making the final decisions on that before too long's out. Cassius isn't going to like it, but from what I hear on the grapevine, that nephew of his is going the right way to get himself put in overall charge of the Auror Office."

"You think?" said Tonks, very surprised.

"Yeah, I do. Boney seems very favourably impressed, now that she's seen him in action at close quarters. He looks like he knows how to be a bit more tactful than our Egbert -"

"That wouldn't be hard," put in Rhiannon, grinning.

"- and it would make sense, now wouldn't it? Have everything under one roof again." He looked around cautiously. "And Rufus Scrimgeour may have enjoyed having his own little private fiefdom up north, but I bet he wouldn't mind being put in charge of everyone else's."

"I suppose ..." said his girlfriend. "I wish you did have more than suspicion on your case, though. Are we so sure that evidence wasn't faked?"

"No, we're not, but you still come back to the fact that it's not easy to mimic someone specific, don't you?" said Tonks. "You need pretty good Transfiguration or Potions skills usually, and you need to know who you're impersonating, and Charlotte Perks did know her."

"And Portia's too ... oh I don't know, butter-wouldn't-melt-in-her-mouth for my liking," added O'Gregan. "Even Cassius thought the old charm she put on when he met them at the World Cup all felt a bit ... practiced, I think he said? Like she just dropped into it automatically?"

"Are you sure you men would know the difference?" asked Rhiannon wryly. "She does have an alibi for that night at the Toad, doesn't she?"

"Sort of ... hang on," said Tonks, reaching for the reports. "Says here her parents were going out to yet another formal robes do at, er, the Bletchleys - they're another of those old families Cassius knows - and they were planning to stay overnight. Portia told them she had a bit of a headache and cried off. No-one to confirm it except their house-elf. Who'd probably lie if ordered to, yeah?"

"No probably about it, Tonks," said Cornworthy sadly. "Would have to, if it was a direct order. They keep secrets, it's part of the enchantment. We almost never get the court to listen to evidence from house-elves, even if we can persuade them to talk in the first place. The binding spells are so powerful, even something like Veritaserum isn't usually enough to break them."

"Wow. I didn't realise that." A thought struck her. "Was that why they let Crouch go off with his elf at the World Cup?"

Rhiannon shrugged. "Probably. I'd imagine she was under general orders not to tell anyone anything without old Barty's permission. He's a strict sod. Straight as a die, though. Very fair. If he'd found out anything useful from her he'd have told us."

Tonks frowned to herself. Strict sod? Yeah, definitely; he was the one who signed the warrant and sent Un ... Sirius Black straight to Azkaban without a trial, wasn't he, so we never got the chance to find out anything useful? Right now, I don't know if that was fair any more. She paused, considering. There have to be records somewhere ...

"Wasn't that bloke of yours friends with Perks?" O'Gregan interrupted this train of thought before it could really build up a head of steam. "Have you asked him about her yet?"

"I shouldn't think so, Don," said Rhiannon, rolling her eyes.

"Why not?"

"Because it doesn't look good if I start an interrogation about his female friends, you prat," said Tonks shortly. "I don't want to give him the wrong idea - and whichever way he takes it, he'll probably get the wrong idea. I don't particularly want him to get the impression that I'm just interested in grilling him about his friends for the sake of the job, either."

"It's only a few questions," said O'Gregan, unrepentant. "No-one's asking you to lie back and think of the Ministry."

"Look, Ches seems like a nice bloke," said Tonks through gritted teeth, "and I don't see any reason to muck things up with him before I even have the chance to find out whether I want them to get started. I don't want him to think that ... well, actually I don't know what he'd think, but whatever it is, it's likely to be more of a complication than I need right now, with everything else I've got going on."

"What else have you got going on?" said Rhiannon, with a baffled look.

"Never you mind," said Tonks quickly, inwardly cursing herself for saying it. The last thing she needed was colleagues asking funny questions about any extra-official investigations she might be interested in pursuing. She was saved from having to answer any by the arrival of Cassius, who looked surprised to see O'Gregan and Cornworthy still there, but (when Rhiannon explained her situation to him) pleased to know they had extra help if needed.

"Where were you, anyway?" asked Tonks when the others had left.

He smiled tiredly. "Out in your neck of the woods, as a matter of fact. The alarm went off to say that one of those books you bewitched was being taken out of Lore of Yore ..."

"Which one?"

"Modern Advances in Information Gathering," he said. "Modern for 1790, anyway, which was when it was published. It sounded innocuous enough to me, but I suppose if you charmed it I should take it that it wasn't?"

Tonks racked her brains for a moment until she remembered it. "Oh, that one. No, not really. It was information gathering by coercion," said Tonks. "Might as well have been subtitled Things To Try If You Don't Want To Get Into Trouble By Actually Casting Cruciatus. Who bought it?"

"Only our friend Alexander Burke, unfortunately," said Cassius with a sigh. "Who's got his own private collection, and has always been known for it. I stopped by their shop and waited outside for a bit, on the off chance that he might turn up to put it into stock, but he didn't."

Tonks shrugged. "Great. Oh well, back to business. Who have we got left to interview?"

"All the people who've been seen talking to Ballantyne down in Brighton. Apparently he was quite a familiar sight in the Magical Market there - probably did dubious deals with half of the shopkeepers - and a lot of people seem to have known him."

"So that's pretty much every wizard or witch in a wide area of the south coast then, by the look of it," said Tonks, glancing at their notes again. "Oh, including your friend Mrs Hallendale," she finished with a sly grin.

"Ah, I see." He looked a little embarrassed. "I'll do that one, shall I?"

Tonks looked at him curiously. "Tell you what, Cassius, let's go together. You know, I'd really like to give her a better impression of me than I've made so far? Every time I've seen her I've either put my foot in it" - both literally and metaphorically - "or I've been threatening to arrest her. Sound fair?"

"All right," he said, with what Tonks felt sure was a touch of reluctance. "When do you want to do it?"

She shrugged again. "No time like the present, eh?" She leapt up and made her way down to the foyer, Cassius following resignedly behind her.