One of the gendarmes at the door twisted on his heels at the sight of Leon.
“Inspecteur, vous avez des visiteurs!” he called out into the apartment.
A weary-looking man emerged from the lodgings. His dark uniform marked him as someone of rank and his eyes were bloodshot with fatigue.
“Comte Beaulieu, thank you for coming,” he said tiredly in French. “It seems we are very much in need of your expertise.” He stiffened when he spotted Evander and his companions on the landing behind Leon.
Leon made the introductions. “Inspector Durand, this is Duke Ravenwood, Special Arcane Investigator from London. He and his team are here on a special mission approved by our government.”
“Enchanté,” Durand murmured curiously.
“What can you tell us about the victim?”
Though Leon’s tone remained professional, Evander heard the tension beneath it. The last thing the Frenchman needed right now was another magic-related murder.
“His name is Gérard Molyneux,” Durand replied in heavily accented English. “He’s a retired scholar. Lived alone. The concierge found him this morning when he didn’t collect his post.” The inspector consulted his notes. “She became concerned and used her key to enter the apartment. That’s when she found him.”
Leon had gone absolutely still. The colour drained from his face.
Evander’s pulse quickened at his friend’s reaction. “Leon?”
Leon met his gaze dazedly. “He’s one of the researchers we were trying to locate, here in Paris.”
Coldness filled Evander’s veins.
Durand stared between them before frowning at Leon.
“You knew Molyneux?”
“Only by name.” Leon recovered his composure with some difficulty. “He’s an old associate of Henri Chevalier, a professor at the Paris Institute for the Arcane helping me on my current case. His specialty was Arcane Cryptology.”
Evander digested this with growing dread. Unless Molyneux had other enemies, then there was a good chance he was silenced because of his knowledge about the Crimson Codex.
“Why don’t we examine the crime scene?” he suggested.
Durand looked distinctly uncomfortable at this.
“It’s alright, Bertrand,” Leon reassured. “Duke Ravenwood and his team are investigating a series of similar deaths. I’m certain their input will be beneficial to us.”
Durand hesitated before reluctantly bobbing his head. “I must warn you.” His gaze flitted to Shaw. “The body—it’s unlike anything we’ve encountered before.”
“Worry not, sir,” Shaw declared grimly. “We’ve probably seen worse in the armpits of London.”
Durand blinked.
Rufus sighed. “You get used to it.”
Durand led the way inside the apartment. “Molyneux is in the study. We’ve touched nothing except to confirm death.”
The dark magic saturating the area struck Evander immediately as they entered the apartment in single file. His stomach fairly churned with revulsion. This wasn’t just lingering traces—it was fresh, potent, and disturbingly familiar.
Tension radiated off Leon as he finally detected the corruption around them. Everyone else seemed unaware of it, which didn’t surprise Evander.
Only powerful mages could sense remnants of dark magic.
“How long ago do you estimate the time of death?” Evander asked Durand as they crowded inside a modest but comfortable main room.
“Less than two hours. The body is still fresh.”
