The Apprenticeship of Julian St. Albans (5 page)

CHAPTER 4

Alex’s phone rang a few days later while he was
busy in his lab, and Julian answered when he saw it was Murielle. “He’s
doing magic,” said Julian by way of hello.

Murielle sighed. “We have a problem,” she
said. “Ms. Eberly might think Alex is charming, but she’s not willing to
overlook his purchase of the lucky clover, and she’s taking it to my boss.
Apparently I will be sharing this case with Agent Fischer from now on, because
he hates Alex sufficiently to make up for my bias in your favour. Alex’s
favour.”

“But you know what the clover was for, I mean,
dozens of agents and officers got the charms,” said Julian, bewildered.
“And Alex was with me all night before the murder.”

“Which you will be telling Agent Fischer when
he re-takes your statement, I’m afraid,” said Murielle. Julian huffed,
which made Murielle laugh. “You sound like Alex.”

“It’s stupid for me to have to redo the
paperwork. You didn’t even take my statement the first time, Tiny did,”
said Julian. “I bet he wants me over without my Alex, too, just so he can
bully me better.”

“You’re pretty, but you’re smart,” said
Murielle. “Do you need a ride?”

“I can take a cab all by myself, Mom,”
said Julian. “Though I suppose I should call you Agent Lapointe for a
while.”

“Just at the Agency,” she reassured him.
“Leave Alex a note and come over as soon as you can, please. I’m getting a
lot of flak for trusting our trusted consultant.”

Julian sympathised with the exasperation in her
tone. “As soon as I can, I’ve got to get dressed properly.”

“Alex’s bad habits are rubbing off,” she
said teasingly, then hung up.

Julian sighed, taking a moment to write Alex an
explanation and leaving Alex’s phone on top of it. Then he took a quick shower
and dressed, trying to look more formal and adult this time. No waistcoat or
cravat, but nice slacks and a good shirt and jacket rather than his work
clothes. He knocked on Alex’s work room door just in case, but there was no
answer. Julian asked the brownies to make sure Alex got his note, then headed
downstairs to catch a cab to the Agency. At least it was a familiar trip.

Julian entered the upper offices of the agency with
his head held high, trying to convince himself he was welcome there as a
friend, still. And even if he wasn’t, he was still a St. Albans; he might have
given most of the titles and land over to Emmeline and her new husband, Phineas
O’Connor St. Albans, but he still had the social clout to keep from being
detained or harassed like some common thief.

Or so he told himself.

“Agent Lapointe,” said Julian gratefully,
spotting her lurking by her office door. “How are you? Have you been
resting?” He put on his best company manners, giving her hands a squeeze
and smiling with as much warmth as he could muster, given the situation.

Lapointe looked highly amused. “As much as
ever when I’m on a case,” she said. “Can I get you some coffee before
we go find Agent Fisher?”

“Is there tea?” he asked, stomach feeling
not quite up to the Agency’s terrible coffee.

“Of course,” she said with a laugh.
“Come on.” They went to the break room, which he’d been in dozens of
times with friends, but it seemed stark and unwelcoming today. Someone had been
through and put everything away and cleaned the counters, so the usual homey clutter
of clean mugs in the drainer and sugar packets lost behind the creamer was
missing.

“I’ll put the kettle on for both of us, I
could probably use less coffee,” she said, getting down one of the generic
department-logo mugs for Julian and her own ‘I like coffee more than I like
you’ cup. Julian let her rifle around for the tea and spoons and put the kettle
on, acting the part of the guest in case someone came in.

Someone did, and nearly startled Julian out of his
wits until he recognised poor Agent Thomas MacLean and his perpetual unrequited
crush on Lapointe. “Julian, I don’t hear Alex bellowing, are you here
alone?”

“Agent Fischer wishes to re-take my statement
on the murder at the nursery,” said Julian, trying not to sound as
exasperated as he felt.

“Ohh,” said Thomas, clearly up on the
gossip. “Yeah, I guess he would.”

Julian rolled his eyes. “It’s all a bit silly,
if you ask me.”

“No corner-cutting in our department,”
said Lapointe, pouring boiling water over their tea bags. “Except when it
comes to the brand of tea, anyway.”

Julian snickered. “It’s fine, Alex likes a lot
of hole-in-the-wall restaurants that only serve such plebeian swill.”

“Oh, but the food at those places is always
divine,” said Lapointe. “I don’t know how he does it, he’s like a
bloodhound for cheap, delicious food.”

“It’s not as if he needs to budget,” said
Thomas with a chuckle. “Even before you, he was pretty well off.”

“He still is, we keep separate finances,”
said Julian. “He lets me pay half rent, though.”

“Does he, now?” said a rather unpleasant
voice in the doorway, and they all turned to see Agent Fischer looming.
“Agent Lapointe, are you detaining my…”

“
Agent Lapointe was offering me a cup of tea before
I have to go through this tedious and unnecessary process, given that my
original statement taken by a perfectly neutral officer of the law,” said
Julian, pulling his dignity together. He might be young and inexperienced, but
he wouldn’t let Fischer push him around. “No one is detaining me,” he
added coldly.

Fisher looked surprised, and Julian mentally gave
himself a point in his favour. “Of course, Mr. St. Albans.”

Julian turned and poked at his tea. “I think
that’s about as good as it’s going to get,” he said, giving Lapointe all
the warmth he’d denied to Fischer. They did a little dance, disposing of the
tea bags and getting sugar and milk into Julian’s cup, though Lapointe took it
black. “Will you be coming with us?” Julian asked Lapointe, as they
left the little break room.

“No, I’ve got some paperwork to do, but I’m
sure Agent MacLean could go with you if you don’t want to be alone with Agent
Fisher,” she said, mild but a slight dangerous edge.

“Yeah, I’ve got some time, I don’t mind,”
said Thomas, sipping his own coffee. His mug had a black, pixelated heart on it
that turned red when the coffee heated up the ceramic.

Fischer looked annoyed, but didn’t protest. He had
his own coffee, in a mug with the police academy logo. “We’ll use this
room,” he said, leading them into one of the interrogation rooms.

At least it was the comfortable one.

The table in here was an oval with chairs all
around it, so the officer wasn’t forced to take an adversarial stance with
friendly witnesses or even suspects of some standing. Julian took a seat near
one end of the oval, to one side, giving Fischer no way to loom over him. He
smiled warmly when Thomas took the seat to his left, so the two of them were
presenting a united front. “How are you doing with the new Castles game,
anyway?” asked Julian, as though Fischer wasn’t quietly fuming as he set
up his folder and recorder.

“Oh, it’s great! I’ve got two built, and I’m
working on a third one, but I keep running into monsters down in my mines. I
think you’d like it, it’s really pretty, even more than that Cloudfall one you
saw when you guys were over.” The best part about it was that Thomas’
enthusiasm was guileless and unfeigned, and Julian was actually interested.
He’d never really played video games before, but Thomas had started getting him
interested in the little ones you could play on your phone, and then he and
Alex had gone over to Thomas’ for pizza and he’d shown off his fancy gaming
setup.

“It’s a different kind of magic, but it’s
still magic to me,” said Julian appreciatively. “We’ll have to have
another pizza night sometime, maybe we can get Murielle to come this
time.”

“Not if we watch rugby again,” said
Thomas with a wry laugh. “But if it’s for something else, maybe.”

“If you’re ready?” said Fischer grumpily,
tapping his pen against the sheet.

“Oh, yes, of course, Agent,” said Julian,
with a sharp little smile. “Now, what did you need me to clarify?”

“I’d like to go over the night before the
murder with you more closely,” he said, vaguely attempting to sound like
he wasn’t fishing for information on Alex. “When did you leave work?”

“I open, so I don’t close, and I left about
three o’clock with Alex,” said Julian, thinking back to the day. The
afternoon had been sunny and hot, and he’d been looking forward to their plans.

“Does he always pick you up from work?”
asked Fischer.

“No, of course not,” said Julian.
“We had plans for tea with friends, and my work was closer than
home.”

“Which friends?” came the sharp retort.

Julian was glad he’d asked. “Our former
Guardians, James and Jacques, and Father Stephen, at the Temple of
Purification. We went early and did a purification before we ate.”

“Do you go through a purification before every
meal with them?” asked Fischer, making notes.

“No, but it had been a while and we both
agreed it would be nice,” said Julian. “Neither of us likes the cold
pool to start, but the rest of it is very calming.”

“Cold pool?” said Fischer, distracted by
whatever notes he was making.

Julian rolled his eyes, but this time Thomas took
up the baton. “Haven’t you ever done a purification? You have to do this
cold bath in mineral salts, and then a warm shower, but there’s more steps to
the one at the Temple. I’ve only done that once, but I had to get purified down
in the infirmary when I bumped into one of the knives during the Sheffield
case.”

“Ooh, Alex told me about that, with the
daggers that made people kill their neighbours?” Julian sipped his tea and
gave his attention to Thomas.

“Yeah, it was really dumb, I literally bumped
into one,” said Thomas. “Maybe I should go with you guys sometime to
the Temple, if it’s nicer.”

“It really is, after the bath there’s a warm
shower, and then a steam room, and another shower, and then meditating in that
room with the grass floor, then sometimes there’s a massage, and you get your
hands and feet washed and blessed, and the kiss of peace with whatever potion
is appropriate. I think last time Alex and I both got potions for
clarity.”

“Why clarity?” interrupted Fisher.

Julian shrugged. “I wanted it to help with my
studies, I assume Alex wanted it for his work. It’s one of the cheaper potions
for the Temple, too, not that we donate any less.”

“You don’t have to, though. I had a purification
when I was a kid; my granddad wanted me to go before I went into university,
and they didn’t ask for anything, though he did donate a little, I think,”
said Thomas.

“The Temple uses donations from people like me
and Alex to pay for people who can’t afford it,” said Julian. “Father
Stephen says he thinks it’s good we come more often now, and not just for our
own peace of mind.”

Fischer seemed annoyed that the conversation had
gotten away from him again, which pleased Julian to no end. “How long were
you there?” he snapped.

“I think we left the Temple around nine, we’d
gotten to talking, and Jacques made dessert,” said Julian serenely. He was
calling on his memory from that afternoon, the whole day really had been
lovely, coaxing new shoots to grow strong, having lunch in amongst the plants,
and then seeing Alex when it was time to leave the wonderful feeling of the
nursery.

“Your Guardian made dessert,” said
Fischer, his voice flat and dubious.

“Oh, was it another one of those cakes he
does?” asked Thomas, then the turned to Fischer. “Jacques brought
this wonderful layered cake to their housewarming party, it was like nine
layers of cake in different colours, with jam between them, and the whole thing
had been soaked in some liqueur and then coated in fresh whipped cream. I
thought I had died and gone to heaven.”

“It wasn’t quite that elaborate, but yeah, he
made these little individual petit gateau with summer berries in a chocolate
mousse, and then this heavy chocolate cake on the bottom, and a really light,
airy angel food cake on top, with honey whipped cream. I guess Victor’s been
sending food over to the Temple as donations from the main house, so it was all
Benedict honey and berries.”

“So, you left around nine,” said Fischer,
visibly irritated with their tangents now.

“You did ask,” Julian pointed out
sweetly. “I think it was about nine, it was dark but only just, and the
night was starting to cool down properly. We took a cab home, and then Alex did
a little work and I wrote to my sister, and then we went to bed.”

“And you’re certain Alex was still home at
midnight? If you were asleep…” Fischer’s oily implications were enough
to annoy Thomas, whose brows knit.

Before Thomas could muster a defence, Julian gave
Fisher a very coy little look and said, “I didn’t say we were asleep,
Agent Fischer, I just said we were in bed.”