The Darkest Corners (Madeira)

[Allassanachassanya]

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*"...A weary ghost still haunts this place, whispering into the breeze..."

Ssanya looked up as Maddy strode past, and watched her rip the bolt from the wall. Worry clouded her face for a moment, afraid that with the bolt gone, the ghost would suddenly reappear. Yet, no such event occurred, and Ssanya let out a silent breath of relief before turning back to the dead woman's prone form, and touching a stray lock of hair before standing once again. She had been slow to respond to Maddy, as she absorbed everything she said and gradually regained some semblance of energy into her limbs, still tired from her possession.

"Yess... I did not have time to touch anything. You musst have followed me in almosst insstantly." She stopped, looked back at the woman's body before stepping over to where Maddy stood. "I am not sspiritisst, but yess. Thiss not a ssuicide." She frowned as she realised the implications. "I am happy to help you. After all, I would likely sstill be possessed if not for you, or at least... Catherine would be free." Then she quirked a smile towards the woman, quite out of place in the lifeless place, but oddly fitting on her face.

The room was bleak currently, but it had obviously been quite richly decorated once upon a time. It looked like a dining room of some kind, and a chandelier still hung in almost perfect condition over the crumbled and wet remains of a rotted table, only one leg remaining upright. Maddy's bolt had embedded into the wall right next to an elaborate candle holder that was missing it's candle. As the woman began to pick through the scattered remains of the woman's belongings and furniture, a question began to form on her lips.

She was thinking over what Maddy had said, and her hesitation over telling it when she had explained what Spiritism was. Ssanya knew that many cities in Mizahar disagreed with magic, and she herself had been at the awkward end of knowing this. Her own magic, malediction, was something she had learned the hard way to keep secret. Yet, there was something about this whole situation that whispered to her to tell the stranger, to take advantage of where she had found herself. Working with animal remains was all well and good, but the power that Catherine's bones might display excited the Dhani more than she was willing to admit. And Catherine seemed such an interesting individual. It would be an honour to craft something from her remains.

Ssanya moved over to where the ceiling had collapsed into one of the corners of the room. She looked over the mess, and tried to lift a heavy dresser without much luck, wondering what was behind it. One of the drawers opened as she lifted it, and smacked her on the forehead. It was painful, and she grimaced, but she lifted up the drawer and placed it on the ground to sort through what was inside.

There wasn't much inside, mostly pages of correspondence and bills. A key fell out of an envelope and she picked it up, feeling the weight in her hand before pocketing it, to show to Maddy later if need be. She scanned her eyes over the bills idly. The handwriting was messy and in common, so Ssanya struggled with some of the letters. But she got the gist of it- they were all for bits and pieces of furniture and homeware. She even found the deeds to the house, on much older paper. The only oddity was a small addenum on the bottom of one letter addressed to a 'Mr Alaxender'. Apparently a 'Mr Harman' had paid Mr Alaxender a fair bit of mizas to stem a growing damp problem. She snorted ungracefully. That clearly hadn't worked. The whole house was riddled through with disease. She stumbled back to her feet again, and wandered to find Maddy. If she hadn't found anything, she would try and get up the stairs to look up there, if the floorboards would let her.

*Quote from the song I was listening to whilst I wrote this. Thought it was fitting. ^_^

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[Madeira Dusk]

The Darkest Corners
21st of Fall, 516
12th Bell

*How apt:P

When Chassa agreed to help, Madeira tried to smile for her. She had a good, practiced smile she used for business and to deal with clients. A polite, pleasant, but not overly friendly pull of the lips over clean white teeth. The one she gave to the man who always sold her eggs, and to her often grieving clients. But this time her perfect smile came out stunted and awkward, much to her embarrassment. She couldn't help it, she was so pleased that this stranger was willing to help. Not only that, she was calm and focused despite all the shyke she just went through. This woman was something special. It warped her carefully composed face into something almost genuine.

As Chassa turned away to search the room, Madeira turned her focus to the corpse. The ghost was wearing a nightdress with the abdomen in bloody shreds. But like she noticed before, the body was wearing a completely different set of clothing. It was a floor length silk dress, with a rotting lace trim around the low collar and long sleeves. Whatever colour it might have once been had been lost to time. Now the garment was spotted with black mold and damp. Though for all of that, the dress was still miraculously intact.

Trying to touch as little of the headless corpse as possible, Madeira rolled Catherine onto her back. Sure enough, the abdomen of the dress was intact, though it was clear worms or rats had been nibbling through it. There was no signs of trauma.

Suddenly there was a crack from the other side of the room. Startled, Madeira whipped around, only to see Chassa put down a solid oak dresser much to big for the tiny woman to lift. she was grimacing in pain, and had a shiny new red mark across her forehand that would surely turn into a bruise. Madeira gave a very unladylike snort of amusement, and quickly played it off as a cough.

She turned back to her own search with a new determination, now that she had been refreshed with that second of levity. She was going to have to check the body for wounds. Something that would probably give Catherine another reason to hate her. She murmured an apology to the ghost as she took the hem of the dress and lifted it delicately over her legs.

The stench trapped underneath the skirts made Madeira dry heave as she exposed her skinny, almost fleshless bones of her legs. The dark and damp under the silk had made a breeding ground for worms and beetles. While the head, arms and chest exposed to the air had weathered fairly well, the woman's thighs, calves and bowels were mostly gone, leaving bare tracts of yellow bone amid the crawling flesh. Madeira managed to move the skirts up to her waist before stepping back with the collar of her own dress over her nose, trying desperately not to vomit. Short, deep slashed were lapped across her abdomen, and in the flesh worms had made their home in her disturbingly deflated belly. The decomposition was bad, but to her untrained eye it seemed these wounds matched with what they saw on the ghost. On another note, she noticed that the woman wasn't wearing anything under the dress. No panties, no corset, and no stockings. Even her feet were bare.

This woman was dressed by her killer, she had to be. And badly too. Maybe the killer was in a hurry. And it seemed safe to assume she died in her nightdress, which must mean she died in her bed.

Madeira pulled the dress hem back to the corpses feet, murmuring another apology to the probably scandalized ghost.

Chassa came up behind her then, and in her hand was a skeleton key. Madeira fanned her own sweaty face with her hand as she turned to her. Now that the corpse (and more importantly, the stench) was covered up again the urge to vomit was fading slowly. Though she still tried to breath shallowly, just in case.


"We need to get to her bedroom. I think the killer stabbed her in her bed, and then dressed the corpse clumsily and put this farce in the dining room. To make it look like a suicide. The poor woman has worms in her belly. She's mostly bone under the dress."


The Spiritualist slapped her cheeks a few times to bring feeling back to her clammy face. She was almost back to normal now.


"Come on, lets find some way to get upstairs." .

[Allassanachassanya]

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As Ssanya returned, she suddenly brought her scarf up to her nose and covered herself, trying to drown out the sudden stench. It was terrible, but fading, as Maddy re-covered the corpse. She glanced at the body over the top of her scarf, and gently held out the key for Maddy to take, should she want to. Her words, mostly bone under the dress, made her even more sure of her course of action. So, she gingerly uncovered her mouth and nose again, and spoke, "Lead on."

She followed Maddy as the two of them searched for the staircase to the upper floor. Further away from the haunted room, Ssanya's unconscious feeling of unease gradually began to lessen, and she loosened her shoulders with a stretch. It was getting easier to walk around too. The kitchen they had been in was messy and disturbed, and she didn't trust the floorboards. Out of that room however, the mould and rot seemed slightly lessened. She glanced around with interest in the darkened gloom of the house. Somewhere up above was the site of a murder, but she suddenly realised that neither of them knew what had happened here. If she had known about the Speakers and the Listeners of Alvadas, she would have given a brief thought to them, wondering if they already knew about this crime scene, whether anybody was worried about this woman, other than two strangers and a husband whom she obviously disliked.

Ssanya spoke up, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Sso... did Catherine know you? There ssseemed to be ssome kind of... undersstanding between you?" It was an innocent question, but a probing one. If Maddy knew about Catherine, perhaps she could ask her about her bones. About her remains... She looked about. Now they were in a narrow corridor, lit only with watery light weakly shining through the fluttering lace curtains that framed the small window at the far end. The only other thing in the corridor was a thin staircase, remarkably well-maintained, with polished handrails only dulled by a thin sheen of condensation, like the spine of some sweating beast.

Something was clearly off in this house, and truly the whole place felt cursed. The easing of tension she had felt briefly now came back again in force. She smiled though, at the back of Maddy, parting her lips to let falsely brave words come out. "Sssuposse we will find ansswerss up there. I will follow, you lead, ssspiritisst Maddy." There was no harm in being careful, and she figured that this was Maddy's job, after all. If there was anything up there pertaining to Catherine's death, then she should know first. Ssanya would make sure nothing followed them up.

She took care to avoid touching the handrail as they ascended. The floorboards here were covered in some kind of carpet, but they creaked alarmingly as the stepped on them. She noticed, too, that there were marks of some kind, staining the rich fabric of the carpet. It was only as they reached the top step that the snake lady realised it was probably Catherine's blood. It was a sobering thought, and she straightened to look around wherever they had emerged.

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[Madeira Dusk]

The Darkest Corners
21st of Fall, 516
12th Bell

Madeira fingered the key that Chassa had given her as they looked around the lower rooms. Unfortunately, the two found nothing but dust and mold and rats. Madeira made an effort to hunt down anything that required a key, but other than a glass-fronted cabinet of fine china, there was nothing to try the key on. She noticed as they moved farther from the dinning room that the corruption seemed to lessen. She'd never seen something like that before. Was city truly trying to devour the house, like Lester claimed? Is the house going through some sort of creeping damage, like a groundwater flood? She made a mental note to talk to Rune Caitiff-Craven and ask if a ghost's or body's presence could corrupt a house.


Eventually they came upon a narrow set of stairs in a gloomy hall. The stairs were richly carpeted, the handrail ornate. She was once again reminded that this crumbling ruin used to be a truly splendid manor. Madeira took the lead without hesitation, though she tested each step carefully before letting it take her weight. Death, ghosts and murder no longer creeped her out, but she could feel a whisper on the back of her neck as she climbed. She would be truly glad to see this house and this job far behind her. As she climbed to the second story she addressed Chassa's question.


"It... No, Catherine doesn't know me. It's another magic technique called a 'Lie". As long as I have a na#e or a face in my mind, I can make a ghost believe I am who I want them to see#" It was rather liberating to talk about magic with someone who wasn't part of her family# Such a taboo topic was never discussed with outsiders of any kind, and definitely not strangers# "Catherine thought I was her husband, that's why she was behaving so strangely# I have no idea why she went after you, though#"


She paused for a second and looked over her shoulder at the woman coming up behind her# "Is there something you wanted to know about her? Or perhaps ask her?"


It was a strange question for Chassa to ask# Did she want to know about her narrow branch of magic, or about Catherine? It occurred to Madeira that Chassa never na#ed her price for helping in this investigation# Was her price going to be information pulled from a dead woman? If so, why? She was waiting for Chassa to answer her question, but the stairs underneath her gave a sudden and loud #i#crack#/i## She hopped up the last few steps at a run, lest the beautiful steps dissolve into a splintery death pit#


The landing was better lit, with a wide window that faced the street# Motes of dust floated lazily in the beam of Syna's weak Fall light# The air was musty and dry on the second floor, but still a welcome respite from the wet rot below# There were more fadded streaks of blood on floor, the carpet around them fadded and threadbare, like someone had tried to clean the stains too roughly#


She continued down the hallway, palming open doors as she went# There was a bathing room with cracked white tiles and a claw-foot tub full of sour smelling black water# Servants quarters with two low, neatly made beds crawling the webs of thick black spiders# A parlor or drawing room that showcased Lester's appalling affinity for velvet# The wind whistled though the chimney flute, billowing a light dusting of ash over everything# The last door was the one she was looking for, the high and richly appointed master's bedroom# The paint was peeling from the walls, and a skittering of fleeing mice and bugs could be heard under the squeak of the door hinges, but the room was largely undisturbed# All the same, a sense of uneasiness permeated the air# Was it because they already knew that a murder had taken place here? Or was it something else?


Madeira walked up to the large four-post bed and pulled back the covers# There was no blood# She motioned to Chassa to help her lift the mattress# Underneath was a hive of cockroaches that scattered like windblown leaves at the sight of them# A huge faded brown bloodstain bloomed as the insects fled# They'd found their murder scene# The killer had flipped over the mattress to hide the evidence, like a child who tried to hide a bedwetting from their parents#


Once they laid the mattress down, Madeira look to Chassa# "Where should we start?" she motioned to the wide room and all its contents, which included a huge oak writing desk with various cubbyholes and drawers, a tall wardrobe slightly ajar, a woman's vanity with a shattered mirror, and a large locked chest beside the bed#


*Finally we will get answers!

[Allassanachassanya]

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Ssanya smiled a secret smile at Maddy's back as they ascended the final few steps, thinking of magic and her own practices. If this woman was also a magic-user, she felt that she just might risk it, mentioned her own. Truthfully, she always wanted to talk to people about malediction. It stemmed in with her own interest in death, and although the only things she knew about spiritism came from this blonde-haired wisp of a woman, somehow she thought the two magics might work well together.

She pondered the woman's question for a moment, simply saying, "Let me think..." as they entered what must have once been Catherine's bedroom. The mattress, once turned over, made Ssanya wrinkle up her nose. The blood-stains were clear as day. Yes, this was where it had happened. Despite the squalor, Ssanya briefly closed her eyes in the somewhat sacred space, offering a small, silent prayer to Dira. Then, on opening her eyes, she parted her lips thoughtfully to answer Maddy's question.

"I would asssk what happened!" Her eyes quirked with a barely there smile, but then became serious. "I hope sshe did not sssuffer." She let a silence sit for a few ticks, and then gazed where Maddy had indicated. She nodded once, and then told the other woman that she would begin with looking around the wardrobe. "I would look at dessk, but," she indicated her face, "Asss you can tell, my Common iss, aah, poor." The reading earlier had stretched her language skills, so now she would settle with the wardrobe.

She walked over, creaking the door open gently. Inside was a half-empty space, hanging with woman's clothes only. They were rich-looking fabrics, and she felt the texture under her fingertips. Smooth, soft, warm somehow. There were coats, brightly coloured dresses, one particularly pretty laced with what looked to Ssanya like pearls. She looked above the hangers, at the shelf just above her head height. Feeling around gingerly, because she wasn't sure what to find up there, she eventually pulled down a few hats, elegant and quirky in one.

She sighed, and put them back. Nothing interesting there. Carefully, she shut the door of the wardrobe again and turned to peek over Maddy's shoulder, wondering if she'd found anything to shed light on the situation. The woman looked concentrated, and Ssanya observed her for a moment. She was pretty, in a serious kind of way. And something about her countenance looked honest. She made her decision.

"There wasss one thing. Have you heard of the Legacy? Ssome call it 'malediction'. Isss magic, to do with death, remains. Bodies..." The word tripped over her tongue in Common, as she was much more used to the snake-tongue word for her magic. She wouldn't say why she asked just yet, instead she waited cautiously for a bad reaction. It was always a risk to talk about magic, but they were in an abandoned house, with only an angry, sad ghost for company. For all intents and purposes, she was safe.

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[Madeira Dusk]

The Darkest Corners
21st of Fall, 516
13th Bell

While Chassa looked through the wardrobe, Madeira followed her direction and decided to tackle the desk.

The table space was covered in crumbling stationary, some still in their envelopes. The writing was inane and thick with gossip about people she didn’t know. Obviously Catherine’s correspondence. She gave the legible ones a cursory read just to be through. The running theme in the latest dated letters seemed to be Catherine’s girlfriends encouraging her to divorce Lester. Frustratingly, nobody brought up a specific reason why. Their ruminations boiled down to ‘he is a lying prick, dump him’.

But didn’t Lester say he left Catherine? It gave Madeira a selfish sort of satisfaction to know that his pride was too hurt to tell it how it really was. But it also worried her that he had lied to her about something so inconsequential.

She set the letters aside and turned her attention to the cubby holes. Several of them were locked. Secret stashes would be a good place to start, she reasoned. One has a tiny, tarnished silver lock. Madeira looked down at the key in her hand that Chassa had given to her. She took it between her fingers, said a silent prayer to Ionu, and inserted it into the lock. To her surprise, the lock popped open. Papers were crammed inside. Several fluttered out as she pulled it open.

Madeira brushed her hands on her skirt and picked up the first paper. It was a receipt of some sort, for the metal and jewel crafting shop More Than Metal. A commission, maybe? She scanned down the page, and her breath caught in her throat as she saw the price. So many zeros!

She put t aside and dug through the rest. They were all receipts, bills and ledgers. Stark Naked And Star Struck, The Withering Rose, The Tattered Thread, all the most luxurious shops made an appearance, along with mind boggling numbers attached to the end. She blew out her cheeks. This man was living way above his means, he had to be.

The last item was a bundle of letters, similar to those on the desk. A dozen of them had been tied together with a faded velvet ribbon. She slid the first one out of the envelope just as Chassa wandered over to look over her shoulder.

Oh.

Oh.

Madeira’s face flushed red as she began to read. “Little slut” indeed. Lester had a mistress. A mistress with absolutely no shame. The blonde woman was suddenly very aware that the stranger was looking at her, and could feel her eyes on her back. With a subtle cough she assumed a look of deep concentration, and wondered wether she knew enough common to read this. She didn’t imagine sex acts and dirty colloquialisms were high on the list for people new to the common language.

So Lester was a prick with a taste for very fine things and had at least one extramarital affair. It was becoming more and more obvious that Catherine was planning to leave Lester, and with good reason. The Lester Madeira saw earlier that day didn’t look destitute, though. Could it be that he inherited his wife’s money?

With a kind of sickening realization, it all began to make sense. He wouldn’t have gotten her money if she were to divorce him. But if she were to commit suicide… A blameless tragedy. He would have inherited everything, and gotten away clean. But Catherine didn’t recognize Lester as the killer, else she would have been much angrier than she was…

When Chassa began to speak, cutting off her morbid train of thought, Madeira gave a sudden start. She crushed the letter in her hand and turned to face her a bit too quickly. The fading redness in her cheeks came back with force.

She was finally answering the question of what she wanted to ask the ghost, presumably. But the question was answered with another question. Did Madeira know about Malediction? The immediate answer was a resounding yes. Malediction was the stuff of horror stories in Alvadas. Every child knew the rumours about the disappearing bodies in the Divine Legacy, or the rumours about the disappearing children at Ornery Orphanage. But Madeira had always had a different reaction to the tales meant to creep and scare.

There was a long pause as the Spiritualist tried to puzzle out what she was asking. Did she want to ask Catherine about Malediction? That was insane. And there was absolutely no evidence that this murder had anything to do with Malediction. As she pondered, Madeira remembered how Chassa approached the dead body after her possession. How she showed no disgust or fear. Instead, she gently stroked the bodies cheek in a gentle, respectful way.

Suddenly Madeira’s pale eyes seemed to light up, and she cracked her first genuine smile in a very long time.

“By the gods. You’re a Maledictior!”

She left no room for Chassa to contradict her words. Indeed, she said it the same way you’d say “its a boy!” or “happy birthday!”. There was such assurance and delight in her voice it was almost obscene. This was the first non-family member she’d ever met who had (abite unintentionally) confessed to be a magic user. Besides that, this was a magic that Madeira had been fascinated by for years.

“Yes, yes of course I know Malediction. I know the theory of it, anyway. You use body parts to make cursed objects, right? Oh bless Dira, I’ve never met a Maledictor before.”

[Allassanachassanya]

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Somewhat taken aback by the young woman's overriding enthusiasm, Ssanya blinked owlishly a couple of times. Then she began to realise the full meaning of her excitement, and she smiled tentatively back at Maddy, beginning to warm to the strange Spiritist. "Yesss, I am. That'sss, well... mosstly right." She pondered how best to explain. "Malediction iss making meanss from the dead. That iss my view. Items I make are not curssed, not unless the creature'ss boness are bad." She stopped, shook her head. "If the sspirit iss bad, like..." Absently she clicked her tongue, wondering how to phrase it. "If a persson iss bad, they will make bad thingss. If a persson iss good, they make good things." She shrugged gently, then brushed her hand through her hair. It was a pitiful description of her craft, and she winced internally at her stunted, broken Common.

But she couldn't help but let the infectious enthusiasm spread, and her face grew animated as she spoke, emphasising her speech with little rolling movements of her hands and fingers. "I have never met Sspiritisst before! They are connected, no? Do you think sso? I did not know of magic to sspeak with and, uh... ah, interact with ghossts! Why do you do it? Do you mind me assking?"

Ssanya picked up the scrunched bit of paper as she listened to Maddy, unfolding it curiously but without really looking at it, as she glanced at the other woman. Now, finally, the true magnitude of this encounter was beginning to dawn on her. Not only was she not scared of the maledicting snake lady, but she was positively excited to learn that she practised magic. She had to admit, it wasn't the reaction she was expecting, even though Maddy herself practised magic. She knew that many magical practises had all kinds of prejudices- she herself scoffed at magecrafting. So to know that she could speak quite openly about her craft with this relative stranger made her heart warm, all of a sudden. She wasn't quite a Dhani, but they shared a kinship through their connection to Dira and her realm. Some people didn't or wouldn't understand it, but perhaps, just perhaps, Maddy might.

Quickly interjecting, Ssanya held up the letter, asking, "Did you find anything?" She gestured back to the wardrobe. "There was nothing there. Perhaps I sshould check the chest, although it looksss locked." The unread letter she placed carefully back on the desk, as she strode more purposefully this time to the chest, kneeling down to look more closely at it. Would brains or brawn work better here? She peeked under the bed, searching for a key. Nothing except a dead woodlouse and a silver pin with a wingless dragonfly half-attached. It would have to be brawn if she were to open the chest, but she sat back on her heels as she looked over at the desk again.

"Sssso... What do you think happened here? Because there was a reasson I mentioned malediction." She grew awkward now, wondering how best to proceed. She vaguely remembered that Maddy had said she was here on work. Did she have to make sure that the body wasn't harmed? Did she merely have to make the spirit pass on, or was she the undertaker too? She decided to just get out with it. "Perhapss Catttherine would agree to let her body live on?" She was making a gentle remark, and in a way she hoped the ghost would hear her. "Malediction issn't bad, or evil. Her body, aah, your body (she addressed the room) would be living on. Maybe I make weapon of you, harm your killer for you if you cannot?" Aside, she muttered under her breath, hoping Maddy would catch it. "If thisss iss bad for your job, tell me to shut up. I just try to help."

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[Madeira Dusk]

The Darkest Corners
21st of Fall, 516
13th Bell

Her reaction seemed to take Chassa by surprise, and the woman took a moment to stare. But the fire in Madeira’s eyes would not be dampened. She was seeing this dark-skinned, sibilant-slurring beauty is a whole different light. Now, at least, she could just start to see the depth of her.

She hung onto her explanation of her unique branch of magic with her brow slightly furrowed. Much of listening to Chassa required her to read between the lines. Her Common was somewhat broken, and her accent was atrocious.

“So, material from the vessel of an evil soul will make a bad talisman, but a good soul will give you positive talisman?” she reiterated. That was interesting.

“Yes, for sure our disciplines are connected! You deal with the body after death, and I deal with the soul after death.” That was true. It seemed like once a persons soul and body separated, the two women had what they needed to practise their respective magics. “You see a lot of bodies in my line of work, honestly. Ghosts can be quire attached to their bones.”

“I do it because I’m part of the Craven family, and this is sort of what we do. A family business.” she began, as she would answer anyone when asked about her profession. But for the first time, she opened herself up to something a little more personal. She felt like this woman might understand. “…Beyond that, it’s really liberating to help a trouble soul move on to Dira. It gives my life, and their death, meaning.” She shrugged almost apologetically, an embarrassed smile on her lips.

Chassa had moved onto the chest at that point. Madeira followed a few meters behind, her arms crossed and brow furrowed as she tried to focus back on the problem at hand. This was still a job, she had to remind herself. They can chat later. And chat they will. Madeira still had a thousand questions to ask.

The dark woman addressed her again, and then spoke to the room in a rather self-conscious way. She was being respectful of the ghost, though. It was refreshing to have someone see a ghost as just another person. But Madeira wasn’t even sure if the ghost was is the room. And she wasn’t ready to revive her with soulmist until they had a better handle on the situation.

“She might agree. Honestly, I hope she does. But you’re the ‘little slut’ and I’m the woman that shot her. Maybe someone will ask her later.” Madeira hoped Chassa would connect their conversation on the stairs about the Lie to her suggestion. A ghost typically couldn’t see through a Lie even if you changed in front of them, since they would want to believe the Lie. Still, it was best not to push their luck. “And we’ll NOT be avenging her murder. That’s the Speakers job.” she finished pointedly.

“I did find something, by the by. Turns out Lester Harman was a man with a fine taste for things and an appetite for women.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose as she put together her theory. “I think. No, I know Catherine was going to leave him. But think about it, if she left the money would have left with her. So who would benefit most from her death?” She let that hang in the air for a moment. “What I don’t get is why Catherine didn’t recognize Lester as her killer. It was Lester who walked into the room downstairs. And its obvious she still cares about him enough to be jealous of you. But who else would have had the motive to take the time to dress up her murder as a suicide?”

Madeira chewed her lip and sighed through her nose. It just didn’t make sense. She sat on the edge of the bed, only to remember where she was and immediately stand up again.

[Allassanachassanya]

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She nodded assertively. "Yess." Then she laughed- she had almost forgotten to say! "Well, no asss well. Malediction iss com..- is complicated." She struggled to explain, feeling frustration now that her words were held back so. "What you make issn't ssomething you control, it jusst... happenss. Well, you can control it. Kind of. It iss basssed on ssircless. I ussse the bones, but ssome people ussse other partss. You draw or paint or etch ssircles onto the remainsss. Circles that have meaning. Sssso, for Catherine..-" Now she stopped, aware that she was going into potentially difficult territory.

"But I can imagine! I'm very attached to my boness," she joked. Yet her playful tone faded as Maddy spoke. She considered her words, found that they resonated with her. Dealing with death seemed to run in families, and Maddy's own beliefs behind spiritism lay close to Ssanya's feelings about malediction. She nodded in agreement, and said, "I have never ssseen the ssoul in it'ss troubled sstate. I work with what they leave behind, but I have always liked to think that they would feel happy that I honour them, even after they are gone. I am glad that you help them too. Dira is a good deity to follow, to work for." She shrugged her slim shoulders elegantly as she looked up from her place on the floor.

She fiddled with the lock as she listened intently to what Maddy had to say. She was correct, almost all of it made sense, except the fact that Catherine had not recognised Maddy- well, Maddy wearing Lester's face- as the killer. What were they missing? Puzzled, she drummed her fingers once across the surface of the chest. It sounded hollow, empty in fact. The rounded top was coated in a fine sheet of dust, undisturbed except for the imprints of her fingertips. Ssanya drew in a deep breath, and let it out with a sigh. Then she sneezed, loudly. Blushing, she muttered a quiet, "Ssorry."

After a time, she ran a hand through her hair. She had made quite a comfortable seat for herself on the floor, as she sat crosslegged thinking hard. Finally, she started, "Oh, Maddy? I sssaw a name, downsstairs, in the drawer. Sssomeone called 'Mr Alaxender.' Wasss paid to fix the damp problem. Obviously he wasssn't sso good at that. That meansss sssomething, I wonder." Yet even with this piece of information, Ssanya was none the wiser. She was desperately trying to think of something, anything that would make sense. "Maybe... a ssslut killed her? Jealous rage?"

She lapsed quiet again. "No, becausse the faked sssuicide. Everything points to Lessster!", she burst out. Curiously, she asked, "What wasss he like, when you ssspoke to him? Did he ssseem guilty? Maybe he dissguissed himsself sssomehow when he killed her...?" She was truly grasping at straws now, and fell silent as she drew twisting circles with her finger in the grime. Idly she smiled to herself as she started imagining how she might paint Catherine's sigil. She was a passionate woman, it seemed. Anything else, she wasn't sure. She would have to ask later, as Maddy had suggested.

She would also have to ask about the Speakers. The other woman had mentioned them in passing, but the warning hadn't gone unnoticed. Although the nature of the crime and the body leant itself well to a weapon, Ssanya deigned to make sure she wouldn't stray down that path. The repercussions probably weren't worth it, even if it did sound appealing.

.
.

[Madeira Dusk]

The Darkest Corners
21st of Fall, 516
13th Bell

Madeira nodded along to Chassa's reasoning. It seemed they both agreed that Mr.Harman had something to do with it. The spiritualist started to pace in the wide room, cutting a path of dust motes with the sweeping hem of her skirt.
 
"Lester seemed more scared than guilty. Mind you, if he had a hand in his wife's death and she came back from the dead to follow and hound him, he should be scared. But this Mr.Alexander, why does that name sound familiar?"
 
She strode to the desk once again and pulled the drawer she opened with the key right out of the cubby. Then she also gathered up handfuls of the writings across the desk only to come straight back and upend the contents on the floor between Chassa and herself. She sat down cross-legged in front of the mess and began tearing through papers.
 
There was a pang in her heart as she saw again all the letters from Catherine's friends warning her off of her husband. A young Miss Joy seemed to be his most ardent slanderer. Madeira spuriously pocketed several pages of Miss Joy's letters that she found most amusing. The gossip of women could make some truly potent blackmail.
 
After a couple chimes of silence Madeira finally found what she was looking for. A very unofficial looking ledger page ripped from a larger book. It had Mr.Alexanders name on it, tacked to a truly ludicrous number and headed with a the cryptic 'rot and damp' heading. She handed the page to Chassa to look at.
 
"You found his name on a bill in a drawer downstairs, right?... Was that drawer locked? Because if the numbers on this ledger and the one downstairs don’t match..." Her fingers massaged her temples as she tried to make sense of everything. "What if the unlocked bill was a fake? Think about it, there was clearly a rot problem, and whoever was hired to fix it clearly didn't do so. If her husband said there would be a man by to take a look at it... Maybe he came by, took a look around the house, maybe left a window open or hid somewhere. Then, when this Mrs is asleep..."
 
She pointed to the number scrawled across the bottom of the ledger in Chassa's hand. "And besides, who would pay that much to fix rot? That's more than twice what my house costs! What if Lester Harman paid Mr.Alexander this true amount to kill his wife and dress it as a suicide!”
 
Suddenly she was on her feet again. Anger was pumping hot in her blood.

“We have to bring Catherine back. Her and Mr.Alexander are going to have a talk.”