Confession of a Medium: Chapter Four

The Case Files of Sheridan Bell #2

Welcome to The Case Files of Sheridan Bell, a fantasy-mystery webseries about an up-and-coming private detective in the city of Tamarley.

Sorry that this chapter is a bit late, my friends! Holiday travel took a lot out of me. I hope you all have a great new year!

The lights of the remaining chandelier went up, proudly illuminating the ruin that had befallen Senator Brahm's ballroom: chairs were overturned, curtains torn, hanging crystals from the fallen chandelier scattered everywhere. But together, the audience stared in horror at what had once been Celine Scott's stage. In its fall, the chandelier had crushed all of Ms. Scott's clever instruments and landed exactly where Celine and Renna had been standing. Henry couldn't see any sign of them, though, neither around the chandelier nor beneath it.

Henry turned to the sídhe behind him. The man was tall, with long silver hair drawn into a high ponytail and pale, freckled skin. He was exactly as familiar as Henry had expected when he'd glimpsed the man earlier. He opened his mouth to greet him, but then he heard Renna:

"Henry!"

Slipping past the sídhe, Henry followed Renna's voice to the stage, reaching it at the same time as Miranda and Senator Brahm. They raced around to the back of it, and there they found Celine and Renna: the former unconscious on the cold ground, her limbs splayed at horrid, unnatural angles, and the latter kneeling beside her.

"Celine!" Miranda cried, dropping to kneel at Celine's other side, Senator Brahm right behind her. Henry hardly paid Celine any attention, instead looking Renna up and down in search of injuries. She seemed unharmed, though her eyes were wide and frantic. Henry allowed himself a quiet, relieved sigh.

"She pulled me off the stage just in time," Renna told them. "But she hit her head when she fell."

When Senator Brahm reached out to draw Celine into his arms, Henry stepped quickly forward. "Don't," he warned. "If she injured her spine in the fall, you could make things worse by moving her. We need a doctor, quickly."

"I may be able to assist," a deep, familiar voice interjected. Henry turned, unsurprised to find that his rescuer had followed him. Taise Anghau, once a childhood acquaintance and now one of the most dangerous sídhe in Tamarley, was known for granting wishes—for a price. So Henry wasn't surprised, either, when the sídhe added, "If someone is willing to make a deal."

"You can help her? Heal her?" Senator Brahm asked. With no light shining above them, it was difficult to tell, but Henry thought he saw tears building in the Senator's eyes. His daughter, beside him, wept openly.

"I can," Taise said, circling Celine and the Brahms like a predator circling its prey. He knelt by the medium's head and held a hand over her brow, not quite touching. Celine was pale, but even in her current state, Taise's deathly pallor made her look rosy and flushed by comparison. Taise looked thoughtful for a moment, then withdrew his hand and said, "Her spine is fine, but she broke her arm and has some bleeding in her brain. You'd better think quickly, before it causes permanent damage."

Renna eyed Taise too consideringly for Henry's liking. When he managed to catch her eye, he shook his head once. He'd dealt with Taise before himself, but he'd gotten off lightly. That couldn't be said for the majority of Taise's clients.

"I'll do it," Miranda said.

"Don't be foolish, Miranda. You shouldn't even be here; this isn't a sight for young ladies," Senator Brahm scolded. Before Miranda could argue, he said to Taise, "Sir, if what you say is true and you can really heal my Celine, I'll give you anything you want."

Henry raised an eyebrow at the word my. Taise, for his part, smiled at the offer. "Anything, Senator?" he asked.

Senator Brahm repeated: "Anything."

"Let's call it a favor, then," Taise said, his smile wide enough to reveal the tips of sharp canines. After shaking the senator's hand and sealing the deal, he lifted Celine's head just enough to feel along the back of it with careful fingers. His eyes, normally the red-dark of pomegranates or rubies, glowed brighter. Slowly, the pain in Celine's expression eased, the small furrow between her brows smoothing itself out. If Henry didn't know better, he'd say she was only sleeping. But he could see now the blood that pooled on the pale floor beneath her, dampening her orange curls. Taise's fingers came back red, and Miranda turned quickly away, choking back a sob.

Henry tossed Taise his handkerchief, and Taise caught it smoothly. "It's done," he said, before any of them realized it had even begun. Calmly wiping his hands, he added, "You can move her, but be gentle. I didn't touch her arm; it needs to be set. And she'll need to be monitored closely over the next couple of days."

"Thank you, thank you!" Miranda said.

Henry noticed Taise's lip began to curl. Knowing how the sídhe hated being thanked, Henry hurriedly interjected, "Senator, you need to call the police. Don't let anyone in or out of this room until they arrive."

"You suspect foul play, Detective?" Senator Brahm asked.

"Several people sensed a sídhe using magic only moments before the chandelier fell; I can't believe that was mere coincidence. Can you?"

Senator Brahm shook his head. "We only just rewired the place for electricity; those chandeliers aren't five years old. To tell you the truth, I see no way the thing could've fallen on its own."

Renna pushed herself to her feet. "You two can't be serious. You think that chandelier was aiming for someone?"

"If not you, then Ms. Scott," Henry answered honestly. "I have to imagine fraudulent mediumship might earn one enemies. But for that matter, so does private detective work. I could very well have been the target, too—I'd moved only moments before the chandelier fell."

Senator Brahm waved over a butler. "I'll do as you say, detective. This is your field of expertise, after all, and very far from mine. But I'm having Celine carried up to her room, first; it's not right to leave her on the cold floor," he said.

"Post someone at her door. No one goes in or out of her room, either," Henry said.

When Senator Brahm went off with the butler, Henry turned to Renna. "Were you hurt at all?" he asked.

Renna brushed herself off and smoothed out her dress; Henry couldn't help but notice how her hands trembled. "No," she said, drawing his attention back. "I'm a bit bruised, my ego worse than my body. I can't rightly complain about that, though, can I? Not with how Ms. Scott got off. Poor thing."

Henry didn't fully believe her, but he knew it would only cause her ego further harm to press. He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. "Go sit down," he ordered. "Have one of the staff bring you water."

Renna managed a laugh. "Whatever you say, detective."

When she was gone, Henry climbed onto the stage. It was a sturdy build, somehow still standing after several hundred pounds of chandelier dropped on it. Henry was careful with his footing, though, as he picked his way over to the chandelier.

"Did she do this? The medium?" one of the guests asked.

Henry glanced at them, worried they were asking him. As a group, the crowd had shifted closer and closer to the stage, too curious to keep their distance. They paid Henry little mind, though; it seemed they wanted conjecture and sensation, not investigation. They all—alongside Henry—watched Celine Scott be carried out of the room on a makeshift stretcher.

“The poor woman looks as if she’s on death’s door! You think she would have planned this?” another asked.

“What I think is that she was desperate to keep her reputation intact. And now she’s destroyed her machinery, too, so we can’t test the validity of it. That’s convenient, don’t you think?” the first guest asked.

“And what was it she said to Mrs. Hale before the chandelier fell? You’re in danger, or some such?” a third guest asked. “Either she could really speak to the spirits, or that was a threat.”

“Be quiet!” Miranda snapped, stomping her foot girlishly. She'd come back around the stage, now that Celine was gone. “All of you, be quiet! You don't know a thing about her! Celine wouldn’t hurt a fly!”

Henry left them to argue. He walked a slow circle around the chandelier, examined it from every angle. From there, he followed the thick chain from its base, stopping in shock when he saw the broken link at the very end. The gold-plated metal was pristine, not showing any signs of wear, except for that link at the end. There, the metal was splotchy orange, corroded almost beyond recognition. When he picked that link up, the heavy chain dragging along the floor with it, he found it brittle and coarse beneath his fingers.

"Taise," he called. "What do you make of this?"

Taise was there in seconds, catapulting himself onto the stage with long, elegant limbs. He sniffed the air as he approached, and his nose wrinkled.

"What is it?" Henry asked.

Taise eyed the chain distastefully. "I sensed the magic being used earlier, like everyone else; that's why I was able to catch you. I'd already been on my way up, so I could be close in case there was trouble. The magic smelled like that," he said, nodding at the chain. "Bitter. Metallic."

"Then someone used magic to destroy the chain," Henry summarized. As he weighed it in his hands, the heavy metal links clanking together, so too did he weigh the branching possibilities. Was this warning, sabotage, or attempted murder? And who was the intended target? He looked to the ceiling, where several links of the chain still hung from a golden base.

"The strange thing is," Taise began, drawing Henry's attention back to him, "Destructive magic like this typically requires touch. Whoever did this would've had to have touched the chain."

They were dealing with a dexterous sort of sídhe, then. A bold one, too. How someone could scale a ceiling in a crowded ballroom without anyone noticing was currently beyond him, but sídhe magic surprised him every day. Besides, he found the question of why someone would do so to be far more interesting. "Here's what I don't understand. If the intent was murder, wouldn't it be simpler to use that magic on the victim, rather than on the chain of a chandelier that may or may not have landed on them?"

Taise grimaced, no doubt imagining the effects a magic that ate so easily through metal might have on a human body. "Not murder, then?" he guessed.

"I'm really not sure," Henry admitted. He found it harder than usual to consider his branching possibilities when half of them lead to his good friend's death. He hoped that whatever this was had been intended for Senator Brahm or Ms. Scott, and hope like that was a dangerous thing to have as a detective. He sighed and passed a hand across his face.

"Are you well, Henry?" Taise asked, watching Henry with open interest. He'd always had a way of watching Henry that felt like a bated breath; Henry had almost forgotten that about him.

"Merely tired," Henry answered, trying for a smile. When Taise tipped his head thoughtfully to one side, the smile turned a bit more genuine. The gesture just reminded Henry too much of the great white wolfhound Taise usually kept at his side. "You didn't bring Etta with you tonight?"

"I'm beginning to wish I had. I left her with a friend back in the other city."

For a moment, Henry let himself watch Taise back. Like Renna, the sídhe wore rich black suit, but unlike Renna, it was a matter of taste, not mourning. This showed in the intricacy of the golden and silver embroidery that wove down his lapels, forming interlocking knots. He also wore a solid golden neck ring that sat open at the front.

Henry was pleased to find that Taise looked well, strong and hale. He hadn’t seen the man for several months, not since an incident Henry dubbed in his mind The Case of the Vanishing Beast. It was a case Taise had played a large role in, and Henry had gotten the impression from him then that he wanted to rekindle their friendship. But months had gone by and their communication had dwindled.

“It’s good to see you,” he tested, watching Taise’s reaction for signs of displeasure. Instead, Taise perked up like a dog hearing the word “walk,” his answering smile bright and dimpled. It was so at odds with his reputation as the frightening Lord of the Ui Anghau that Henry almost laughed.

“It’s good to see you, too,” Taise said earnestly, venturing a step closer. “I’m sorry I haven’t reached out. Work has been...busy."

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Henry said, surprised at having an apology at all. Like thanks, apologies were not offered by the sídhe lightly.

Taise's gaze slid to the front row where Renna sat with Henry's coat. Miranda sat beside her now, exchanging few words and looking glum. Casually, Taise asked, “Mrs. Hale—she was your date tonight?”

"I was hers, if you want to be technical," Henry said. He scratched his nose, unsure why the question embarrassed him. "You remember me mentioning my downstairs neighbors, don't you? They welcomed me into their family when I didn't exactly have one of my own. Renna's their daughter, so we practically grew up alongside each other."

"She's like a sister, then?" Taise pressed.

"I suppose you could say that."

Taise looked pleased at this, though Henry couldn't begin to guess why. The sídhe continued, "I was enjoying your speech, before the chandelier fell. Do you think there was any truth to what Ms. Scott was saying?”

“Of course not. All of her devices were fake, her 'psychic insights' easily explained,” Henry said. He was surprised Taise would even ask. “Do you?”

“No,” Taise said, his eyes following Ms. Scott as she was led out of the room on a stretcher. “Of course not.”

The police arrived just as the guests started to grow restless, and with them came another one of Henry’s acquaintance: the lauded Inspector Zhou Yichen, a young inspector on the Tamarley force. He wasn’t the worst among them, and that was the most Henry could say for him. While the constables began pulling guests aside for interviews, Inspector Zhou headed straight toward Henry and the broken chandelier.

“Where there’s trouble, there follows Sheridan Bell,” he called as Henry started down the stage steps to greet him. In his plain uniform, the inspector stood out from the glittering party guests. Briefly, his gaze landed on Taise behind Henry, and his expression soured before he returned his attention to Henry. “Why are you here?”

Henry pressed a hand to his heart. “I’m a guest. Am I not allowed a social life, Inspector?”

“You don’t have enough money to be a guest at a party like this. Where did you even get this suit?” the inspector asked, plucking at Henry’s sleeve.

“You don’t know how much money I have,” Henry said defensively.

“I’ve been inside your apartment. I know well enough. Don’t tell me you’re his guest?” Inspector Zhou asked, pointing his chin at Taise.

Taise smiled and stood beside Henry, closer than probably necessary. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, inspector,” he said, sounding like it was anything but.

“He’s my guest, actually,” Renna said, stepping up to join them. Inspector Zhou’s expression shuttered when he saw her. Not that it had necessarily been open before—but he a certain candor with Henry, and even Taise, that was replaced in an instant by cold, guarded professionalism.

“Mrs. Urenna Hale, isn’t it? I knew your late husband,” he said.

A ghost of a smile appeared on Renna’s face. “I’m sure you did.”

“Why are you here, inspector?” Henry asked. "I thought you only worked murders.”

“And Senator Brahm claimed this very nearly was one. When I heard you were involved, I knew I had to come,” Inspector Zhou said. He ducked his head after the admission, busying himself with pulling out a notebook and pen, and asked, "What happened? Start from the beginning."

“Of course,” Henry said, puzzled by the looks Inspector Zhou, Taise, and Renna were all exchanging with each other. He could feel the tension that threaded between them, he just wasn’t certain where it had come from. “Ms. Celine Scott was giving her public demonstration on stage when she called on Mrs. Hale to commune with the alleged spirit of Mr. Hale. Mrs. Hale forced me up with her,” He explained, shooting a look at Renna, who shrugged and smiled. “When the medium made some insensitive comments, Renna asked me to step in, so I obliged. Thus, I began to expose the false medium's deceptions.”

Inspector Zhou, too, smiled as he wrote. Henry finished by giving him a brief account of the moments before the chandelier fell, as well as everything that came after.

“And why were you there? What's your involvement in this?” Inspector Zhou asked, pointing his pen at Taise. “Don't tell me you came to communicate with the dead. Isn't that what your house does?"

“The Ui Anghau don’t speak with the dead, we make deals on Death’s behalf,” Taise corrected.

“Allegedly,” Inspector Zhou said, punctuating it with a sharp underline in his notebook.

“As you say,” Taise agreed with a polite, dangerous smile. “To answer your question, I'm here because I was invited and because the prospect of a human medium amused me. Is that a crime among humans, now, inspector?”

“Hmm,” Inspector Zhou said instead of answering. “Henry, did you notice anything else interesting?”

“Interesting, yes," Henry said. "Whether it’s all pertinent is a question only our criminal can answer.”

“Any theories, then?”

"As of now, none whatsoever. It's no question the chandelier was dropped with magic, but I've currently no way to narrow down the possible motives. But I'm tired, Inspector Zhou, and just got off another case. I'll leave this in your capable hands—do tell me when you've caught the culprit," Henry said.

"Sheridan Bell, recusing himself from a case? Now I've seen everything," Inspector Zhou countered. "In that case, Mrs. Hale, I'd like to ask you some questions about tonight. Are you willing to answer in front of Mr. Bell, or shall we speak privately?"

Renna met Henry's eye briefly, then quickly looked away. She smiled at the inspector. "Let's speak privately. No need to bore Lord Anghau and Mr. Bell with things they've already witnessed. Henry, could you have them bring my carriage around? I want to go home."

"Of course," Henry said. Once she was gone, he watched her retreat with narrowed eyes, wondering what she thought she was hiding from him. "Taise, I hate to ask a favor of you after everything you've done to help me tonight, but will you accompany me in escorting Mrs. Hale home? I want to see that she gets there safely, and if there's a sídhe involved in this business…"

"I'd be happy to," Taise answered.

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