“That is the home of amurdervictim.” I pointed at the front door. “As you can see, it is a modest home. The family inside is not expecting a royal visit. Under normal circumstances, it would startle them. As it is, your presence will be a burden. They will try to hide their grief so as to not offend you. They will be torn between the honor of such a visit and the horror of their loved one's death. And they will forever link youwith this awful day in their minds. I conclude there is no benefit to you accompanying me.”
The Dragon King sat back. “I see.”
I waited. “No argument?”
“No. You're correct. I will wait here.”
I took a deep breath and let it out. “Thank you. This will be hard enough as it is.” I looked toward the door and hesitated.
It was always the worst part of a murder investigation. I hated notifying the family. No one enjoyed it. But because I enjoyed catching murderers, it felt odd to face the families of their victims. I felt almost ashamed. It was a feeling that I had long ago dissected and accepted. I may enjoy the hunt, but I also gave these people peace. It was a fair exchange. And I always endeavored to be as compassionate as I could when I dealt with the families or with victims of any crime. Compassion was difficult for me, so maybe it was a type of penance. I suffered a little with them.
“Claw Shinkai.” King Tor'rien laid his hand on my shoulder. “Please convey my condolences to the family.”
Sliding a glance his way, I nodded. It was the perfect prompt to get me past my reluctance. I nearly thanked him for his insight, but I wasn't yet certain that the King was that perceptive. So I simply exited the carriage. As I smoothed my coat, I glanced at Sir Vasren. He was staring at me. I steeled myself for condemnation. He had heard me speak to the King without respect.
Sir Vasren handed me the paper the King had confiscated and nodded, his expression conveying the opposite of what I expected.
“Thank you.” I took the paper, looked over the name, verified the address (that's one mistake I'd never make again), and went to the front door.
The home stood tall and narrow, surging up between identical constructions that continued down the block in an orderly fashion. The buildings pressed up against each other with barely an inch between them. I assumed they’d been constructed in sequence. It wasn't unusual. Many neighborhoods in the city looked like this, only the style and size of the homes varying.
Movement caught my eye, and I looked up at the second floor. A curtain fell into place.
Sighing, I knocked.
Moments later, a Chelli woman yanked open the door and stared up at me with wide, bloodshot eyes. Despite the state of her eyes and the puffiness around them, she was a pretty woman, with glossy reddish-brown hair falling around her pale face in waves.
She looked from my somber face to the badge on my coat. “No,” she whispered. “Please, don't say it.”
“Mrs. Panne?” I asked.
She nodded, her lips trembling.
“I'm Claw Shinkai of the Hall of Talons. I'm so sorry—”
“No!” Mrs. Panne screamed as she crumpled.
I caught her, prepared for it. This wasn't the first widow I had consoled. “I'm so sorry, Mrs. Panne. I'm so very sorry.”
She looked up at me. “No, not Lansho. Please. He's a kind man. He's never hurt anyone.”
“I'm sure that's true. But I'm afraid he's gone now.”
“How?” Mrs. Panne clutched at my coat. “What happened to him?”
“He was murdered. I am in charge of finding those who killed him.”
“No. No, that's not possible. Why would anyone hurt him?”
“I don't know, Mrs. Panne. But I will find out.”
“No,” she sobbed and went limp.
“Mrs. Panne, do you have any family inside the house?” Just as I looked up, two boys came into the living room and stood in the doorway between it and the entry.
“Mama?” the smaller of the two called.
His mother didn't hear him over her weeping.
