Nymphadora Tonks and the Liquor of Jacmel

39. Old Sins Cast Long Shadows

Monday 2^nd November 1994

For the rest of that Sunday, Tonks spent as much time as she could spare from ... well, more pressing matters ... in examining her memory. Try as she might, she was unable to come to any comfortable conclusions, but there was one final check she had to make before she could report to Cassius. She made a point of arriving slightly late for work on Monday morning, so as to to make sure everyone she needed to talk to would be there.

She spotted Cassius in his cubicle as soon as she came in, although he didn't notice her or even look up as she passed. He seemed to be writing a report - or at least, making efforts to do so. As she watched, he scratched out a sentence or two with his quill, then broke off to stare into space. She grimaced and made her way over to Arnold Cornworthy's cubicle. Fortunately, he wasn't busy, merely chatting to O'Gregan in a desultory fashion about Ministry politics.

"Arnie, can I borrow the Image Projector again?".

He nodded and reached into the cubbyhole under his desk to dig it out. "Of course you can, Tonks. What's it for this time?"

"Just an idea I had. I'll tell you if it makes any sense once I've had a play around." She nodded in the general direction of Cassius, who still looked distracted even at a distance. "What's up with him, then?"

Cornworthy shrugged. "Beats me. He's been like that ever since we came in. Barely reacted when I asked him when he wanted our report on the Carrack and Ashford interrogations."

"Somethin' to do with that row on Saturday night, so it is," added O'Gregan sententiously. "Don't suppose his lady friend was too happy with him."

"Could be," replied Tonks, with a sinking feeling. She tucked the Image Projector under her arm and went on a quick trip to Level Four, then on her return scouted round for a vacant interview room in which she could experiment. She had no intention of letting anyone know what she had in mind until she'd had a chance to make sure her idea would hold water.

Half an hour later, she had a series of projections of eyes and upper faces in front of her, and had managed to achieve exactly that. Her heart sank at the confirmation, but she couldn't honestly tell herself that she was surprised. She'd been so very sure that she was right.

She sighed, picked up the Projector and went in search of Cassius. He was still in the same place, making very slow progress on his report.

"Cassius, can I have a word?"

He jumped at the sound of her voice. "Yes, of course," he said, shaking himself. "What is it?"

"You're not going to like this, but ... it's about what happened on Saturday night ..."

His face fell, and he turned away with a muttered curse. "I thought you might not spot that. You haven't told Angelica, have you?" There was a definite plea in his voice.

"Sorry?" she asked, startled. She hadn't expected Cassius to know what she'd been doing. "Not yet, no, but she's going to have to be told, isn't she?"

"Is she?" he said with a tortured look. "Why? What purpose would it serve?"

"Well, it's Auror business, Cassius, isn't it?" she replied, baffled. "We can't keep it quiet just because it's someone we know."

"Why bring it all up again now though?"

"Because it's still going on ..." She ran down, confused. "Cassius, what are you talking about?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You first. You're not making any sense at all."

"I thought you said you'd understood what it meant when Angelica was talking on Saturday night. Please believe me, I had no idea until she said it and then it all clicked into place."

"Said about what?" asked Tonks, mystified.

Cassius looked at her strangely. "When she told us who her husband was meeting the night he died, of course."

"The ones wgo turned out to be Death Eaters? What was it, Bellingham, Jugson ..." That name rang a bell; she'd talked about him recently, but where? She racked her brains for a moment until it registered: that's right, I brought him up when I was talking to Lupin about Uncle Sirius. Oh, hang on a minute ... "You told me about Jugson, didn't you?" she said slowly, as the fact that Cassius had been the source of her information came back to her. "Had a Muggle-born wife, snapped one day, killed her and joined the Death Eaters?"

"Yes, that's the one," he said stiffly. "I didn't know you'd remember what I said."

"Well, I remember you saying there was a battle when he was arrested and ..." She broke off; a slight chill making its way down her spine as it dawned on her what he was implying. "Wait a minute," she said slowly. "You were there, weren't you?"

He nodded, looking utterly miserable.

She looked at him open-mouthed. "You don't mean ... you were the one ..."

"I don't know, Tonks." He couldn't meet her eye.

She flopped down into the seat next to him and stared. "Oh, Cassius," she said eventually. "How? What ... how could ... what happened?"

"It was supposed to be a simple operation," he said, head down. "Surround the house, burst in, catch them unawares. But we tripped some kind of alarm spell and all hell broke loose. They were stuck inside the house, firing off Killing Curses anywhere and everywhere. I know one of them hit some poor passer-by in the street who just happened to be out late walking his dog. And I saw one of my colleagues go down about five feet away from me. We were trying to take cover in the garden and find a weak point to blast our way in." He paused. "Tonks, please believe me, I have no idea when Hank Hallendale was killed. They might very well have killed him as a potential witness against them before we even got in there, especially if he tried to get away. But I don't know. That's the worst part. I don't know. He could have been hit by a stray curse, either one of theirs or one of ours."

Tonks looked at him, aghast. His obvious anguish wrenched at her heart. "Oh, Cassius ..." she said again.

"Even after Barty Crouch authorised the use of Unforgivables I never liked using them," he told her, a little defensively. "But in that sort of situation you had to. They had an excellent defensive position, if we'd hit one of them with a simple disabling spell like a Stunner or Body-Bind it wouldn't have helped, one of the others could have revived them straight away. There was no time to call in reinforcements, and no guarantee there would be any available if we tried. And ... well, let me warn you about this if you ever have to face it. When you see a colleague go down in front of you, a certain madness can take hold of you. You want revenge, and that's a dangerous thing if it gives you an itchy wand hand. I tried, I really tried, to control it, only fire spells at definite targets, please believe me - but I know one or two of my colleagues got curse-happy. And that's dangerous too. It got another one of them killed because he wasn't taking enough care."

"And you didn't know that was the incident where Hank was killed before last night?" she asked incredulously.

"I didn't ask," he said, shamefaced. "I knew he'd been killed in an attack, but God help me, I never asked the details. And I hadn't even bothered to remember the names of the bystanders who'd been killed in the incident. It was late in the war. Things like that didn't seem to matter. You just wrote up a report, or signed your name on the one somebody else had written, and moved on to the next disappearance, the next murder, the next Dark Mark. It was the most nightmarish time I've ever known, and believe me I've known quite a few. After Halloween 1981, when it was suddenly all over - well, that's when I resigned from the Department. I finally realised that I couldn't stomach it any more."

She swallowed. "Right. No. You definitely don't want to tell Angelica that."

The relief on his face might almost have been amusing if the subject matter had been less serious. Or if she hadn't been going to knock him for a loop again in a few minutes time. "Thank you," he said. "I'm not sure how I can ever look her in the eye again now though." Tonks winced at the choice of words.

"You're going to have to sometime soon though ..." she said, reluctantly.

"I know. I don't know what I'm going to say to her. I don't plan to raise the subject of her family again. How's the case going?"

Tonks took a deep breath. "Well, we'll see ... Er, Cassius?"

"Yes?"

She picked up the Image Projector and, with a heavy heart, adjusted it to display the memories she'd pieced together. "Take a look at these. Tell me which ones you think look alike."

He seemed slightly confused, but took the Projector from her and examined the memories of eyes and foreheads critically, flipping back and forth between them until he seemed sure of his opinion. "Right, number two, number six, and number nine. Three views of our Butler friend, two with the scarf, one without as far as I can tell. What about them? Do you think you have an identification?"

"You definitely think they're the same person?"

He checked again, looking very closely. "Well ... yes. I'm sure. What are you saying?"

Tonks summoned all her nerve, and managed to keep her voice steady. "Number six is the Butler, it's my recollection from the night I met him in the Transfigured Toad. I made it at the time when it was still fresh in my mind. Number nine is also the Butler, I got it from Beatrice Easton this morning - she's still worried enough by the whole thing that the Projector was able to pick up a clear memory. Number two ... that's a memory from Saturday night when I was staring into somebody else's eyes ... "

He gaped. "What? Tonks ... You don't mean your ..." He trailed off, obviously not sure how to phrase what he wanted to say in a delicate manner. Tonks realised what he meant and flushed.

"What? Don't be silly!"

"But then ..."

"I had him at wandpoint on Saturday. Cassius? It's Clark Hallendale."

*****

Cassius stared blankly at her for quite a while. Finally he broke the silence, speaking in a low voice. "No."

"I'm afraid so ... I knew something rang a bell when I saw his picture at Angelica's, and then again on Saturday night, except I was a bit -" she coughed "- well, distracted when I got out of the lift. But then I did a bit of experimentation with the Projector ..."

"I said NO!" He interrupted with a shout, and emphasised the point with a fist slammed onto the desk, both of which drew odd looks from the other Aurors.

"Cassius, you said yourself it's the same person," she pointed out, as gently as possible.

"No." His voice was firm, but there was an almost pleading look in his eyes. "How could it be?"

"Well ..." She had a nasty feeling that she might be about to get her head bitten off, but had little choice but to carry on regardless. "We do know he's a bit of a dodgy character? I looked up his record on the WEB Access, and no-one actually knows how he makes his money. People seem to think his brother and his mother help him out, but we don't know that, do we? He fits the general physical type of the 'Butler'. His lack of magical skill fits the profile too - he's definitely the sort of person who would have to use a simple blasting spell to kill, either because he didn't know any standard killing curses, or didn't have the magical power to cast them. Remember, he's got a record for getting into fights and losing them. And the man I met didn't do anything much when I fought him - one spell put him out of action, and it wasn't even a proper hex, just a Banishing Charm."

"But where would he get Liquor of Jacmel from? And more than that, enough of it to supply it to others? It doesn't grow on trees!"

"I was thinking about that," she said sadly. "Remember what Barry Lewis said when we arrested him after the third Gringotts robbery? He reckoned the Butler took over the 'business' from someone who used to be in the trade, who had contacts out in the Caribbean?"

"But who would that be ..." He closed his eyes. "I see," he said in a strangled voice. "Hank Hallendale, you mean?"

"Sorry Cassius, but it would fit, wouldn't it?" She was speaking quickly now, determined to get her point made before he could raise further objections. "Angelica said they spent years flitting round out there in the Caribbean getting into scrapes, and she admitted that a lot of what they did was shady and a Statute of Secrecy violation. What if it was more than just shady? What if Hank was in touch with the really dangerous people out there, the ones who know how to brew Jacmel? In fact, what if he knowingly went to meet with those Death Eaters that night to talk to them about buying the stuff?"

Cassius looked at her, tormented. "And Angelica? Do you think she's involved too? If she was, why would she even risk talking to me, an Auror, let alone spending time with me, or bringing up the incident where Hank was killed? How long have you been thinking this?"

"Only since Sunday morning," she said, upset. "Honestly, it all sorted of fitted into place then, but I suppose it must have been building up subconsciously for a while now. I just had too many other things going on to realise it. I like Angelica, but ... I suppose I haven't really been very sure about you seeing her, have I? I mean, she even said she never asked her husband about his past, that she knew what he got up to was a bit dubious."

"Dubious, yes, but not Dark Magic!"

"Well ... to be honest, I think she'd have looked the other way and never really asked what Hank did, just so long as they had enough Galleons to get by. She seems to have been besotted with him, you can tell by the way she talks about him. And you've seen what she's like about her kids - I reckon she'd shut her eyes to anything they might have done, up to and including murder. Just like Ashford with his nephew and nieces." The thought just like me with Uncle Sirius? flashed through her mind, but she shook it off.

"Go on," he said wearily as she hesitated. "Finish it off, now you've started."

"I don't know as much about them as you do, but I got the impression on Saturday night that Clark kind of idolised his dad. Want to bet he'd stay in the same line of business? And by the sound of that Ministry briefing paper on Liquor of Jacmel, the people who actually make the stuff out in Haiti are suspicious of outsiders, and it's very hard to make contact unless you have some link with them. Hank though was a charmer by all accounts, he might have won their trust. And I should think that if you were the son of a former customer they'd trusted, they'd be a lot more inclined to do business with you. It's the way those things work out there, isn't it?"

"And your theory is what, that he might do the same as his father? Sell the potion to the remnants of the Death Eaters, if they intend to start making trouble again?" He didn't even seem to be trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Tonks shrugged. "I've no idea what he might be planning to do. But can we really afford to take the risk? They can't all have been able to do Imperius Curses, but they could certainly slip a potion into someone's drink. And if they've decided it's time for a replay and are about to start carrying on like they did at the World Cup, this is something we need to put a stop to right now."

She paused, willing him to accept what she was saying as reasonable. "Look Cassius, it's all speculation apart from the Image Projection, and I'll admit that could be challenged, but ... it would fit. We've got to investigate it at least, haven't we? We can't just let it go, now we've thought of it!"

"No, I suppose we can't," he said, the expression on his face so bleak it left Tonks herself feeling miserable. "I should have known this was too good to be true. Let's go and talk to him then." He rose and began to gather his things together, then stopped dead. A peculiar noise half way between a whimper and a sob escaped from his throat.

Tonks looked up, startled. "Cassius?" When he didn't say anything, she repeated with concern, "Cassius! Are you OK?"

"Yes. Or rather no. I've just thought of another little bit of information that would fit Clark. That damned nickname. The Butler."

"Why would that fit him?" asked Tonks, bemused. "Was he in the butlering trade at some time?"

Cassius sighed heavily. "No. Angelica's fond of the 'movies'. She told us she named her sons after Muggle film stars. Don't you remember? Well, maybe you don't. They got their names from Montgomery Clift and Clark Gable." Seeing Tonks' blank expression, he added in irritation, "Whose most famous role was Rhett Butler. Remember Lewis told us that 'the Butler' seemed to think the nickname a great joke? From what I've heard about Clark Hallendale from Angelica, it sounds like exactly the sort of thing that would amuse him."

He hung his head. Tonks bit her lip. "Oh Cassius. I'm sorry." She reached out awkwardly to pat his arm.

"It doesn't matter," he said, shrugging it off. "Let's go."

*****

Neither of them were especially surprised to discover that Clark Hallendale was not at home to visitors. They walked all round the house, looking in every window, and then (after a brief consultation) took a slight practical and legal risk by magically opening the door to investigate - but insofar as it was possible to tell from the congealed remains of an old meal on the kitchen table, he didn't appear to have been there for a few days.

None of his neighbours seemed to know him that well - although this was expected for a wizard - but one of them mentioned that she thought he sometimes went to visit his brother. "Owns some big company up in London," she said vaguely. "Don't know the name though." The Aurors seemed to decide by a kind of unspoken mutual consent to try there first rather than call on Angelica Hallendale. Tonks could sense that both of them would prefer to put that particular meeting off as long as possible.

A brief call to Cornworthy in the Auror Office to ask him to look up the details proved fruitless, as neither Montgomery nor his company had ever been listed in Auror records. Fortunately, Tonks recalled the Halloween Ball and decided to try the International Magical Trading Standards Body; even two days later, Mongomery's disgruntled date was still seething about being stood up to let him deal with his brother.

She remembered when they called round Tonks and treated her to a long diatribe on the subject. "I bet he only asked me out to get information about our reaction if he imported magical things via his stupid Muggle shipping company," she concluded. "Well, he won't get permission if I've got anything to do with it!"

"Who decides?" asked Cassius.

"The boss - Mr Crouch. Though mind you," she added bitterly, "he's getting so erratic these days he might just sign off on the permission slip without looking at it. Poor sod's been cracking up ever since the World Cup ..."

"What's the company name?" interrupted Tonks. She didn't think the troubles of Barty Crouch, however entertaining, were anything the Auror Office needed to take an interest in. Unless of course Monty Hallendale had decided to use Liquor of Jacmel on him to get his signed permission, which seemed a little extreme even if his brother really was the source of the stuff.

"The 'Greater Antilles Mercantile and Shipping Corporation'," she said, referring to a piece of parchment in the file. "They move stuff between Britain and some of those islands out in the Caribbean."

"Which ones?" asked Tonks, as the woman copied the address onto a spare memo pad.

She shrugged. "Mostly the big ones according to this. Jamaica, Puerto Rico, Cuba, Hispaniola." At the last two names Tonks flashed a significant look at Cassius, who nodded in resigned agreement.

"Very well. Thank you for your time. I think we need to pay Mr Hallendale a visit."

"Are you going to arrest him?" she asked hopefully.

Cassius winced. "Ah ... we'll let you know."

*****

The headquarters of the Greater Antilles Mercantile and Shipping Corporation proved to be in a modest suite of rooms on the fourteenth floor of a London office block. They were met by a snooty secretary who attempted to rebuff them with a claim that Montgomery Hallendale was busy, but her resistance crumbled into panic as soon as Tonks waved police identification at her and she started gabbling into the intercom. (The ID was of course fake, Transfigured from a button while in the lift, in the hope that the tactic would be more successful than it had been with Lupin. Although in this case, she was prepared to bet that no-one would be checking it too closely.)

Montgomery was sitting at his desk, looking flustered, as they strode into the office. He jumped up and shooed out the secretary, now bobbing anxiously in the doorway, and cast a privacy charm on the office as soon as she was out of sight. Then he sat down again and looked at the Aurors with considerable irritation.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, that's nice," said Tonks equably. "We wanted to talk to you about your brother."

"Why? What's he done?" He'd never been this belligerent before.

"Did we say he'd done anything?" countered Tonks.

Montgomery sighed. "Every time someone from the Ministry asks me about Clark, it's because he's supposed to have done something, Miss Tonks. It isn't usually Aurors, I'll admit."

"Look, can you just tell us where he might be?"

He sat back and looked at her thoughtfully: "I'm not inclined to point you in his direction without some good reason, no."

"We want to ask him questions to do with a murder inquiry. That a good enough reason for you?" She flashed a quick glance at a tired and sad Cassius, who seemed more than happy to let Tonks take on the 'Bad Auror' role and ask the questions.

"Murder?" he spluttered. "Clark? Don't be bloody ridiculous. Murder who? Ask him what questions?"

"I don't think we have to specify that."

"Well, unless you do I don't know that I have to help you, or have any reason to suppose Clark has anything to do with the matter you're referring to, do I?"

Tonks exchanged glances with Cassius, who shrugged listlessly. "We also wish to talk to him about the sale of an illegal and very dangerous potion. And we have a definite identification of him in that case, so ..."

There was a sudden sound like a pistol shot. It seemed to come from the other side of the wall behind Montgomery.

"... what was that?"

She darted over to the wall, where a few quick spells revealed a hidden door. Cassius had at least perked up enough to follow her, so she nodded to him and flung the door open, throwing up a Shield Charm to protect them. He fired a volley of Stunners into the room behind it, although the precautions proved unnecessary as the room was now empty.

They ignored the scowling Montgomery Hallendale and made a full inspection of the small hidden room. It was largely bare, being furnished merely with a small desk, a chair, and a set of filing cabinets, which proved to contain wizarding paperwork relating to the business. Some of it looked a bit dubious to her inexpert eye, rather suggesting that Montgomery had been using spells to preserve cargoes and enhance the speed of his transports, but Tonks was quite happy to leave consideration of that to Cassius (or indeed the International Magical Trading Standards Body, who she suspected might have an employee who would be interested in examining the paperwork more closely for signs of illegality).

She turned to Montgomery and snapped, "Right then. Who was that? Clark?"

"Who was who?" he asked urbanely.

"Don't play games with us, Monty! Was that noise your brother Disapparating?"

"Might have been. If so, I wasn't in the room to see. What if it was?"

"What if it was ... We told you he was wanted for questioning! You deliberately concealed his presence here!"

He smiled. It was quite clearly meant to irritate her, and it succeeded. "Actually, I didn't. I merely said I wasn't inclined to tell you without further information. Which I wasn't, and which I didn't get, incidentally."

"We could arrest you for that!" she spat. "We told you he was under suspicion for murder! You deliberately stalled us and gave him time to get away!"

The smile became a smirk. "No, I merely said I didn't know that I had to help you. Of course, I'm not a legal wizard but I do believe that you need good cause before I have to answer questions. You hadn't given me one yet ..."

"He's within his rights, Tonks," said Cassius tiredly before Tonks could explode. He turned to Montgomery. "I'm sure you knew he was there, and I suppose you knew he could hear and would Disapparate at the first sign that we'd hit too close to home. But I don't suppose you're going to tell us where you think he might have gone, are you?"

"No, and I've no idea where he would have gone anyway. I doubt it would be anywhere he's told me about."

"And you're happy that a murderer gets away, even if he's your brother?" snapped Tonks, as they made their way back into the main office.

He dropped into his chair and looked up at her. "No, I'm not happy. But I refuse to believe he is a murderer merely on your say-so, without seeing some damn good evidence. And even if that is the case -" he sighed heavily "- well, he's still, as you say, my brother. I wouldn't turn him away if he came to me for help, and I definitely wouldn't hand him over to be sent to Azkaban."

"I suppose your ships have been bringing in little packages for him, have they?"

"Do you really want to throw accusations like that around without proof, Miss Tonks?"

"No, but we could get ..."

Cassius tapped her on the arm. "Come on, Tonks, we're not going to get anything else here. At least we have reason to believe he's on the run now, so we can alert the Department. I would say thank you for your time, Montgomery, but ..."

"Not really appropriate, is it, Mr Scrimgeour?"

As they turned to leave, Tonks said to him sarcastically, "I suppose you only asked me out because you were hoping to get information about your brother, then?"

He looked surprised. "Well ... yes."

"What?" She hadn't been expecting him to agree, and the fact that he did definitely hurt her pride. "I thought you fancied me or something!"

"Don't flatter yourself," he said tartly, then unbent slightly. "Well, all right, you're not bad-looking, to be fair. But that shape-shifting thing is just ... creepy."

"Thank you, Montgomery. That will be all," said Cassius. He took a firm grip on the arm of a disgruntled Tonks and led her out of the office.

*****

"Thanks, Donnacha. Let us know if anyone turns something up. We'll deal with things at this end."

Cassius tucked his mirror phone back into his pocket and turned back to Tonks, who had perched herself on the little table in the Worthing Floo station while he contacted the office. She couldn't help but remember that this small room had been where they'd first met the Hallendales.

"What are they doing for us?"

"Tracer spells round any locations they think he might visit - they'll rope in someone from the Patrol to help out. We've got just enough to do that on suspicion, like with Beatrice Easton at the Transfigured Toad."

"Right." Not to mention with me and Mum, when they thought my cousin might turn up to see us. The memory made her a little uneasy, but she wasn't in a good position to complain. "Now what?"

Cassius didn't meet her eye. "You know what. I know what. I'm not exactly looking forward to this."

"Angelica?" she asked sympathetically.

"Yes." He stared into space for a moment or two, and then shook himself. "Well, come on. We're here now, we may as well get it over with. I don't suppose she'll want to talk to us, either, but we have to ask her. I'm sure she'll know we're coming by now. Even if Montgomery didn't just Apparate straight there he will undoubtedly have telephoned."

"Are you OK to go and see her?" she asked, as they left the little room that served as Floo station and man Apparition point for Worthing and stepped out into the street. "Cassius, before we go ... be honest now, just how much do you feel for her?"

His lips tightened as if biting back a tart reply. "Friendship. Affection. A lot of fellow feeling. I'm going to really hate doing this. But no, I'm not in love with her if that's what you're asking."

"Right. Good." She didn't say any more as they walked the short distance to Angelica's house, but really hoped that Cassius was being honest with himself. As chat-up lines went, "I want to lock up your firstborn son in an island fortress guarded by soul-sucking fiends, and by the way I may have accidentally killed the love of your life" didn't really sound like a winner.

Tonks kept watch when they arrived at Angelica Hallendale's house while Cassius busied himself with setting up the tracer spells. The door was opened promptly at their knock; when her reddened eyes saw who it was, she turned and went back into the house without a word, although fortunately this left the door open behind her. Tonks exchanged looks of trepidation with Cassius and followed her into the lounge.

The room looked much as it had done on her previous visit, with the Hamburghalle glasswork vase that had been Monty's gift to his mother still perched on its table, the Best Kept Suburban Lawn visible through the window and as well-kept as it had even been, and the framed photographs of her sons and husband perched on the sideboard as before. Tonks took a close look at the latter and realised that the pictures of Clark had been moved to the front, where they stood out almost in challenge. It reminded her that Angelica had distracted her from looking at them closely the first time around, and she wondered just how much she had suspected about her son's activities.

Their hostess stood in front of the window with a far from welcoming expression. "I don't suppose I need to ask why you're here, Mr Scrimgeour?"

Tonks noted that she didn't call him 'Cassius' and stole a glance to see how he would take that. He'd evidently noticed too, and it seemed to be causing him pain. She hastened to take the pressure off him. "Has Montgomery talked to you, Angelica?"

"That's 'Mrs Hallendale' to you," she said coldly. The contrast with her tone on Saturday night was quite shocking, although Tonks could tell from both her voice and her body language that she was hurting. "Yes, he's talked to me. No, I don't believe Clark had anything to do with what happened to Sylvester. No, I don't know where he would be at the moment, he doesn't tell his mother about his business affairs. And no, you don't really suppose I'd tell you where he was even if I did, do you?"

"I suppose not, Ang ..." began Cassius.

She interrupted, he voice icy. "Mrs Hallendale."

He hung his head for a moment. "Yes, I'm sorry. Look, we do realise that this is a difficult thing to ask of you -" Angelica raised her eyebrows as if to say no kidding "- but if Clark has got himself into something really bad, we have to try to get him out of it ..."

"Oh don't lie to me like that!" she snapped. "Montgomery told me about the murder inquiry."

"He fled from the office when he wanted to interrogate him," said Tonks. "That was very suspicious ..."

"I'm not surprised," said Angelica impatiently. "He never trusted your people, and I can't say I blame him. And what's this potion you want to talk to him about?"

"Liquor of Jacmel. Very dangerous."

"Yes, I know. You talked about it before when you were asking me about Sylvester. Don't pretend you don't remember, Miss Tonks!"

She hesitated. "Ang ... er, Mrs Hallendale ... if your son really is the one involved in these cases, you must see that he could be dangerous to others. The man we're looking for tried to use Jacmel to kidnap me once." Angelica looked momentarily sick at this, but managed to keep up her defiant stare. "And we're bound to track him down eventually -" she knew this was stretching a bit, but it was worth a shot "- unless he gets into the hands of some really Dark wizards, and then I don't think he would stand much chance of survival unless he did much worse things."

"Clark's only possible chance is to give the Ministry information that he can use to bargain his sentence down," put in Cassius quietly.

Angelica scowled. "No, Mr Scrimgeour. His only possible chance is to stay out of your hands completely. If you had any real evidence connecting him with these things, you would have arrested him before now. So I don't see why he should let you force him to drink truth drugs, just in case you can turn up evidence of something he might have done. Delving into his mind is the only way you're going to actually get anything, isn't it?" Tonks looked at Cassius for confirmation; he seemed both startled and ashamed, which left her with a sinking feeling that the shot might have hit home. "I don't know where he might be, and if you think I'm going to tell you anything about him, you've got another think coming! He's my son. I'd do whatever it took to keep him off that accursed island, whatever he might or might not have done."

Cassius sighed. "You do know we've had to cast tracer spells around your house in case he turns up. And the same for Montgomery, of course."

"I dare say. We can't stop you, can we? Is there anything else?"

"No. No, I suppose not. Let's go, Tonks."

"Right." She couldn't resist a glance back at a stony-faced Angelica as she left, and that little inattention was what caused the disaster when she forgot about the loose rug until it was too late. She caught her foot on it and was propelled forward into the table, ending up on the floor with a sudden thump that knocked the breath from her. Everything in her pockets flew out onto the carpet - wand, mirror phone, wizard detector, K's 'knife', a depressingly small number of Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts - and then the table and the glass vase displayed on it came crashing down on top of the lot of them, the latter shattering into a thousand pieces on impact

There was complete silence for a moment or two, and then Angelica screamed at her. The sound made her shudder, a mixture of anguish, disbelief, loathing, and loss.

"Get out!"

Tonks, aghast, clambered to her feet, crunching a bit more glass in the process. She began trying to pick out a few coins from the debris. "I'm sorry ..." she said in a very small voice. Even as she said it, she felt that was utterly inadequate to cover the situation, and it didn't surprise her that Angelica Hallendale felt the same way.

"Sorry?" she cried, still screaming. She picked up the bits and pieces that had fallen from Tonks' pockets in a kind of fury and practically threw them at her. "Get out! Go! I never want to see either of you again! GO!"

Cassius had been watching with a frozen expression. As Tonks stumbled away, putting her stuff back, he seemed to come to life. With a shaky hand he pointed his wand at the fragments of the vase and said "Reparo!" They flew back together, the resulting vase looking - as far as an immensely relieved Tonks could tell - pretty much as good as new. There was a short silence.

"Well thank you Mr Scrimgeour," said Angelica, in a very soft, very deadly voice. "Most considerate of you to mend my vase. Can you do the same thing to a broken heart?"

He shook his head.

"Then I guess we don't have anything more to say to each other." She suddenly seemed on the verge of tears. "Just go. I'm sure you've got things to do."

The front door was slammed behind them as they left. Tonks glanced at Cassius to see how he was taking it; she received another unpleasant shock as he strode away from her looking for all the world as if he was about to explode.

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Author's Notes: The film Cassius refers to as a 'Butler' clue to Clark is of course Gone With The Wind. You see, I didn't put that nickname in there solely for the sake of making the pun 'the Butler did it' - that was just a bonus. :D

If you remember chapter 28 where Angelica mentioned to Tonks and Cassius that she named her boys after film stars, you might also have noticed her telling them that she could brew potions, and Cassius agreeing that Muggles could do so (that latter was meant to be another hint that his wife had been Muggle-born). JKR's recent comments quashed that theory - I've edited the chapter to reflect that, but fortunately it wasn't a major plot point.

Props to After the Rain for spotting the connection between what happened to Angelica's husband and Cassius' tale about Jugson, way back when the latter was first mentioned in Chapter 8 (and never again before a quick reminder in Chapter 37, of course).