Andi shook Sprenger’s hand as well.
“We’re glad to see you’re doing better. Last time we were here, Dr. Blackton told us you were sick?”
“Ah yes, nasty stomach bug. I haven’t been ill inages, and out of nowhere,bam.” Sprenger shrugged, then patted his stomach. “Didn’t do much to the old storing facility, though.”
George chuckled politely, keeping an eye on Andi.
“Dr. Blackton told us there are several people here who tend to the bees and that they’re used for therapeutic purposes.” George smiled at the man, trying to radiate innocence. There was little chance Sprenger didn’t know why they were there, not with all the ruckus in the media, but it couldn’t hurt to try to get his take on things without him realizing they were poking around.
“Yes. Thomas helps the most, he’s good with them, and some of the patients are reliable too. I also have two fellow members of my beekeeper’s club who lend me a hand. Dr. Aoki doesn’t shy away from the work either, though she’s more interested in what the bees do for her patients.” Sprenger shrugged again, the hat at the back of his neck swaying from side to side.
“I really can’t imagine what therapy with bees would look like. Do you help with it?”
There it was, the spark of superiority, the chance of divulging wisdom to those less in the know. Most people fell prey to it, especially when a person of authority, also known as detective, was asking. Andi shuffled a bit closer, playing his part of interested servant of the public.
“It’s a hassle, I can tell you. I sometimes have to help when Thomas isn’t there, and just getting six people into the suits is trying. When the group has done it before, we go straight to the hives, but when there’s newbies, there’s an entire lecture about how to handle the bees, how to stay calm and everything. They never get much work done. That’s my job, organizing it all. It’s more about the patients getting a feel for other beings and, in reflection, themselves. Or so Dr. Aoki says. Personally, I think it’s not worth it. There’s always somebody who freaks, and it takes days for the bees to calm down. They don’t like fear.”
“No, that they don’t,” Andi murmured softly.
“Oh, you a beekeeper too?” Sprenger was definitely interested now. More than George would have thought.
“I was. Not enough time now. I have wild bees in my garden, though. In one of the trees.”
George immediately knew which tree Andi meant. At the very back of the garden, where George never went because it was so wild. To reclaim it as a garden, they would have to bulldoze it completely. He did remember Andi had mentioned bees once, but with all the other things going on in their lives and all the arthropods constantly swarming Andi’s senses, the bees had been nothing more than a footnote. They didn’t cause trouble; therefore they weren’t of interest.
“Wild bees. How absolutely wonderful. Your very own gatekeepers in your garden. I envy you. They always catch all the swarms, never let one settle where they want, even though we have so many great spots for bees on the premises.” Sprenger’s voice was full of longing.
“Gatekeepers?” George hadn’t expected Sprenger to know about bees in mythology, an assumption he quietly chastised himself for. If there was one thing he had learned as a detective, judging people on sight was always a bad idea.
“They guide the dead to the other world. Fitting, I think. I’m looking forward to when they escort me.”
Sprenger must have seen something in George’s or Andi’s expression, because he was quick to explain his cryptic words. “You see, we had this professor at one of our club meetings. We invite them from time to time, to keep up-to-date with all the innovations regarding beekeeping. It’s usually technical stuff, how to select queens, the best materials for hives, legal questions. But this one time we had a professor for mythology over, and she talked about the history of beekeeping and the lore connected to them. It was such a success we invited her again for next month.”
The conversation was veering into territory George wasn’t sure what to make of. Andi, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have that problem. Then again, he lived in a place nobody else had access to. “Such a fascinating topic. I have to admit, I only know the basics, never had time to dive too deep into it. And yes, they’re excellent guides, knowing of the ways in the world. I think it’s great your club is so open to all aspects of beekeeping.”
George looked at his partner sharply. At times like these, he wondered how much Andi was going where his dialogue partner was leading and what was genuinely him. The archaic phrasing suggested the first, while what Andi had just told him about bees made George think it was the latter.
“We try our best. With all the toxins and climate change, keeping bees is becoming more and more of a challenge. Deepening our knowledge about them is such an important thing to do. As is building a network of like-minded people.” Sprenger reached for his beekeeper hat and pulled it over his head, closing the veil with the zipper at the bottom. “It was nice talking to somebody who understands, so nice. But I have to start working now, see how the hives are doing. Spring is a busy time.”
“We’ll leave you to it, Mr. Sprenger. Thank you for your time.” George turned back to the path they had come from. For today, they had seen enough of House Cusabo.
Back in the car, they shared a glance before George started the engine. “That was interesting.”
“Yes. Another beekeeper.” Andi stared at his hands. “He’s also strong. And the scent was close. Of the smoke, I mean.”
“Close enough to make you suspicious?”
“Yes. But when we talked to Thomas, he had traces of it on his skin as well. He must have worked with the bees recently. Not to forget the patients who help. It stands to reason they all use the same ingredients for the smoker. And Sprenger just mentioned members of his club giving him a hand. I don’t know much about being in a club, but I could imagine they’re likely to use similar ingredients for their smoke. Especially since they are ‘like-minded.’”
“So potentially a whole club of suspects, some of whom have access to the bees here, meaning they have access to the patients as well. Do we know how strict House Cusabo is on keeping the patients in? If there are some who are free to leave now and then, we have to consider them as well. At least we have crossed Thomas off the list.”
“Yes,wehave.” Andi rubbed his forehead with a tired sigh. “Because we can be reasonably sure it wasn’t him.”
“The old problem—we can’t rule him out officially because we don’t have evidence to back it up. On the contrary, his involvement with Kesha makes him suspicious.” George felt as if somebody had dropped a lead weight on his shoulders. “And we suddenly have a bunch of other candidates—the members of that club. How many beekeepers are there who are close to Thomas and Sprenger in stature?”
“I don’t know, and we need to find out. And we only assume the killer has to have ties to House Cusabo because some of the victims are from here, there’s bees here, and because we had some likely candidates for the killer being from here as well. Emphasis onhad.”
“We have to check how long Sprenger has been working for House Cusabo. And who from his club has helped him. Also, it probably won’t hurt to check all the current and former male patients who fit the bill height-wise. Sandra is going to kill us.” Sandra Mescew was overseeing the beat officers and organizing the review of all the documents and tips and other paper trails they were getting. Asking her to check all male patients who had contact with the bees would make her roll her eyes. In a very specific way George didn’t like. The woman could be scary as hell. George set out for the road back to James Island. Andi fished for his cell and started scrolling once he found it in his inner jacket pocket. How the man could place the thing in a different spot every time was another mystery about him. George was still contemplating buying Andi one of those cell halters for belts, but then he would be tempted to buy him a new belt as well, which would lead to another shopping spree where he’d have to remind himself that boundaries were important.
