‘You do not have an appointment.’

Though it was not a question, Christophor withdrew his badge from his coat pocket by way of an answer.

‘The mayor is attending his offices,’ the butler said.

‘Mrs Eder then.’

The butler became very still. Moments passed. Then he appeared to shudder. ‘Very well,’ he said, ‘if you will accompany me to the parlour.’

For the third time in so many days Christophor was walking along the corridors of the Eder household. The experience wasn’t becoming any more pleasant with each visit. In fact, this time they felt positively tight, the paintings and tapestries and the like were closer than ever and the air strained. Mrs Eder was waiting for him.

‘Thank you, Henry,’ she said, dismissing the butler. ‘Welcome, Inspector, what a pleasant surprise to see you again so soon.’ She didn’t offer him a seat.

‘I’m afraid I am here on official business this time, Mrs Eder.’

‘In that case, my household is entirely at your disposal.’ She reached for a bell on a side table, but he stopped her.

‘Perhaps I might ask you some questions, before speaking to your staff.’

She arched a brow at that.

‘I won’t keep you any longer than necessary,’ he said. He produced his notebook and pencil, an act timed with the same precision and ritual as you’d find from a conductor who stands before their orchestra. ‘I must first apologise.’

‘Apologise, Inspector?’

‘I should have brought my questioning to your door earlier, but I’m afraid events somewhat overtook me. You’ll recall Constable Webber, and no doubt—’

‘Terrible business. And a man so well-loved, so much a fixture of our community.’

‘Yes,’ Christophor said. ‘Though I understand there was an issue between the constable and Stefan, the framer.’

Mrs Eder scowled. ‘Inspector, gossip may be a necessary evil when entertaining, but I choose not to sully myself with such things in private.’

‘Sadly, that is where much of my investigations lead.’ He scribbled uselessly on a full page. ‘Were you the one who discovered Jan Harsson’s theft?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘That was Patrik and Victor between them.’

He flicked back a few pages to his Eder family tree. ‘Your son, born a night-child and not cared for by your day-sister.’

‘I wouldn’t say that.’

‘What would you say, Mrs Eder?’

‘Rebecca may not be married to an Eder, but she does care for our children. She lives here and helps when she’s able.’

‘Patrik and Victor discovered the crime. How?’

‘You’ve met Victor at least,’ she said. ‘He and his day-brother have an inquiring, and determined, mind. I’ve often thought, were we in the city, one of them would make an excellent addition to the King’s constabulary.’

‘I dare say their talents might be wasted there. Regardless, can you say how they came to realise Jan was the thief?’

She sighed, appearing somewhat conflicted. ‘By turns they hid in the dresser,’ she said eventually, an odd mix of pride and shame in her voice. ‘Day and night for over a week, I believe. They kept a meticulous log of who took what, when, and why. Jan Harsson was the only member of staff to make… What they called: “Unsolicited, singular-directional withdrawals.” Inquiring, and determined, as I said.’