Before Klein boldly marched across the street to confront Clarice's servant, he was finally able to have the conversation with Captain Dunn.
True to his expectations, the Captain's expression when Klein and Seeka had walked into the guardroom was one of wary anticipation. The resigned question of 'what is it now?' gleamed in the man's deep grey eyes as he stayed seated by the table. "Is there a problem?"
"Yes," Seeka stepped forward, taking the lead. "My conversation with Klein revealed a key issue."
She concisely recounted the situation: Clarice Falkner had hired the private investigator at the start of the month, and had since forced encounters with Klein, while pretending they were coincidences. To this end, she was paying her servant, Deborah Evans, to watch Blackthorn Security Company from the window seat of the Zouteland Coffee-House. Clarice's behaviour was escalating, and just yesterday she had attempted to dose his tea with aphrodisiac at the Divination Club.
"Falkner was almost certainly the inspiration for the letters of complaint we received," Seeka concluded, having fallen into the habitual stance of a presenter. She was only missing a sheaf of papers to brandish. "In short, Klein is being harassed."
"I see," Dunn's brows had risen during the story, gradually settling back down into a thoughtful look as Seeka reached the end of the tale. "I can safely say that this is a first for the company. So she spread word of Klein's employer to the Divination Club?"
"That's our surmise," Seeka replied.
"And this investigator..."
"Bidwell."
"Bidwell," Dunn repeated, his tone steady and unchanged despite the fresh spark of recognition in his dark eyes. "The knowledge of Klein's police connection likely originates from Bidwell reporting back to his employer after our visit."
Klein cleared his throat. He had been waiting for his chance to speak this entire time, but had not found the need to. It was very odd, hearing the events listed out by someone else. "It's also likely that Miss Evans saw me in the police uniform."
"What a pain," Dunn sighed. "What are your next steps then, Klein?"
"I intend to arrange a meeting with her through Miss Evans. My hope is that a firm rejection and confrontation will convince her that it is a futile endeavour. Royale suggested that I meet her at the Cathedral."
"Leonard also suggested that we place someone nearby, in-case the situation takes a turn," Seeka added.
"Both sensible suggestions." There was a lengthy pause as Dunn packed his pipe, his gaze moving from Klein to Seeka and slowly back again. "Am I the last to know of this?"
"No," Klein answered honestly. "We haven't told Old Neil." He was certain his mentor would find out on his own, if he was interested, and hopefully spare Klein from rehashing the story for a fifth time.
"Or Cesare," Seeka added with a smile. "Rozanne helped spread the news over lunch."
I recall you being pretty instrumental in that. Klein resisted the urge to give her a withering look, but something must have still shown on his face because Dunn chuckled.
"That would do it." The pipe was fully packed, so the Captain slowly spun it in his hand as he continued to think. "Yes, I agree you should not go alone. When do you intend to confront her? Any missions will take precedence, but we can at least inform the Cathedral ahead of time."
"Is that necessary?" Klein blurted out. The last time he visited the Cathedral because he was being stalked by the Secret Order, and now it was because of a noble lady. An instinctual part of him was agonising over what opinions they may be forming of him there.
"Yes, it's very sensible," Seeka nodded and met his eyes sternly. "Let's not leave her room to act. The Cathedral will be much safer for you if they know to watch out for you. Then, if she tries to turn the tables on you, the priests will know that you are not a criminal."
"Right. Best to stack the deck," Klein agreed, firmly banishing his shame. Embarrassment wouldn't help him solve this situation! "I was planning to go to the café after this conversation, and arrange the meeting for lunchtime tomorrow, so that she does not have time to prepare."
"Fortunately, we don't need to prepare on our end," Dunn said wryly. "Tomorrow... Barring an emergency, we can assign someone to the Cathedral for that time. It's only a short walk through the underground. Yes, Royale should blend in well."
The Captain sniffed his pipe, inhaling deeply as both Klein and Seeka waited patiently.
"You should both eat your lunch earlier. Or later - either way, consider the confrontation to be working hours." It was, perhaps, more important that Royale's lunch hours were respected, when the Sleepless on staff picked up so many extra night shifts. "I'll expect an update. Ideally, she drops the matter, and does not poke any further in our matters..."
"Yes, Captain," they chorused. They both took one step towards the door and waited three more seconds.
"Perhaps Kenley should be concerned that his fiancée isn't causing so many issues," Dunn mused aloud. "She lacks curiosity for his work."
Klein stared at Dunn in bleak betrayal.
Seeka laughed. "I'm sure she simply has a healthy sense of boundaries. Will that be all, Captain?"
"Yes, please let Royale know. As for the Cathedral... I shall write a message. Send Leonard down to deliver it for me, I must stay by Chanis Gate."
After informing Royale and Leonard of their new tasks, Klein had immediately set about writing a short letter, so that he was not reliant on her servant's memory.
Miss Falkner, you have wronged me.
Let us settle the matter at St Selena's Cathedral, at one o'clock Thursday.
Klein Moretti
He wrote atop a second piece of paper, and made a rubbing of it for his own records. His thought was that as a rubbing, it should serve better as proof of the original note's contents. Although I suppose any fraudster could do such a thing... Still, if she were to modify my note, this could help reveal any deceptions.
Klein did not know what to expect of her, so he could only suspect anything and everything.
It was this letter that he handed over to the astonished servant woman, who had still been sat in the window seat. "Miss Evans, I have a letter for your employer."
The waiter and woman watched agog as Klein left the café as swiftly as he'd arrived.
Wednesday July 15
Klein's confirmation that Old Neil had heard the news was his morning greeting of: "So I hear she's crazy? What a shame. Well, I'm sure it'll be resolved shortly, and as a nice young man you'll eventually have your chances with some kind young ladies. We could always try a ritual for good luck!"
You don't sound terribly optimistic of my chances... Asking the Empress of Misfortune and Horror for help with his so-called love life sounded like a particularly stupid way to court death, even if Old Neil's rituals worked more often than they had any right to.
"In this situation, wouldn't a ritual be more like cursing her?" He'd asked, partly to joke, but also a genuine question.
Old Neil laughed, then paused thoughtfully, before chuckling again. "No, if you go about asking the Goddess to curse our foes, you would likely be ignored, and perhaps have our colleagues calling you in for questions. Nighthawks are held to high moral standards, after all. It wouldn't do for us to curse even the most annoying citizen. Rather, you could ask for help from the Mother of Concealment. Of course, if it's too successful we may not be able to find you."
The conversation was a good distraction for Klein. When Old Neil had performed a ritual to repay his debts, had it been granted through an act of 'misfortune' afflicting the rich Sir Deweyville, who had lost his wallet? Back then, the two symbols Old Neil had used were 'the night' and her identity as 'the Lady of Crimson'. Rather than changing the means of the help offered, it could be considered a way of setting the tone of the request...?
Fortunately, Old Neil was the right person to ask such questions about ritualistic magic. Klein was able to spend the morning in peaceful discussion with Old Neil. However, as lunchtime approached he could not help but lose focus as his mind wandered to the upcoming confrontation. He was certain Old Neil had noticed, but this time his mentor chose not to call him out on it.
When Royale knocked on the Armoury door to remind him to eat lunch earlier, Old Neil saw him off with a smile. "Go on without me, lad. My stomach prefers it when I eat on schedule."
Honestly, Klein had hoped the older man would join them. Eating lunch with Royale was a little awkward, considering how little he had interacted with the cold and quiet Nighthawk. At least he knew she was vicious at cards. It was not that she was avoidant, or unpleasant, but more that she rarely spoke outside of work. The woman also seemed immune to awkward silences.
Royale had stood to leave after she finished eating and paused to look at him. "She won't be able to harm you."
Klein stayed seated, blinking, as Royale swept out the room. That's... not really what I'm worried about... He sighed to himself. No, what he had lost sleep over the night before was the nagging suspicion that Clarice Falkner would be incapable of seeing reason.
There was nothing to distract Klein's thoughts as he walked from Blackthorn to the Cathedral. Royale had entered the Cathedral ahead of him by taking the underground passage, ensuring that her presence would not be linked to his own. With a glance on his way out, he had confirmed that Miss Evans had yet to return to the café window. Hopefully that was a permanent change.
Clarice had consistently been trying to give him a positive impression of her. His plan was to establish that his opinion of her was ruined beyond repair.
If I knew what she liked about me, then I would know how to act to repulse her... Er, assuming I could stomach such extreme acting. He had even entertained the thought of flashing his gun, but it was laughably obvious that he wouldn't be able to follow through with the threat. She'd call my bluff in a heartbeat.
Klein had been going over the scenario in his mind, considering the different angles she could take, and how he could most efficiently shut down her advances. He had holed himself up in his room, to avoid distractions, and reread her letters for any inspiration.
Klein still felt underprepared. He hoped the feeling the mutual.
His heartbeat accelerated when he crossed the white plaza to enter the dark prayer hall of Saint Samuel Cathedral. The stained glass windows cast him in a deep red and blue light, and as he'd arrived long after morning mass, there was only a scattering of devotees inside. He peered ahead, scanning the pews, and resisting the instinctual urge to lower his head.
Clarice Falkner was already there. She was sat near the end of one of the closest pews, her head bowed and hands clasped in prayer, with her brimmed hat resting on the pew beside her. It was, he realised with a light-headed sense of detachment, the first time he had seen her wearing a previous outfit.
Royale was also in position, seated in the same column as Clarice, but closer to the altar. He spotted saw a priest talking to a devotee to the side of the hall.
Steeling himself, Klein stepped off the central aisle to walk up along the wall. She looked up as he sat down just over an arm's length away from her.
She looked relieved.
"Good afternoon, Miss Falkner," he spoke quietly, his voice not carrying far in the sheer space of the hall. As a Beyonder, Royale would no doubt hear every word, but other eavesdroppers were unlikely.
"Klein -"
He ruthlessly cut her off. "I know you hired Harry Bidwell, Miss Falkner. You have violated my privacy and broken my trust."
"What else could I do?" She matched his low volume, eyes wide as she searched his face. "I knew you and Naya had been visiting Welch. What if you were being threatened by the culprits? I couldn't risk involving the police, in-case they tried to use you as a scapegoat."
So that's your angle? I could ask how she knew, but she'll just claim Naya told her... Right, I can't let myself get pulled into an argument over logic.
"And then you placed your servant outside my workplace?" He glowered at her, and Clarice's posture straightened up as she blinked back at him.
"Deborah enjoys the coffee there, and I was worried for you," she insisted, tone laden with a facsimile of concern. "She offered as a way to give me peace of mind. It was such a relief to confirm your innocence, but then you were suddenly working at a security company... It's very common for employees to die young, working in such a dangerous business."
"Don't try to convince me she was there for my health," Klein replied flatly. "You were tracking my movements, and arranging so-called 'coincidences' to meet with me.
"Miss Falkner, I cannot trust someone who has already lied to me so freely."
"That's..." Her voice wavered. "Klein, what are you talking about? Our meetings really were coincidences. I can... I understand I must make things right for not informing you - "
"I don't want an apology, or atonement. I want nothing less than to end our acquaintanceship." Klein delivered his ultimatum with the same resolve he had been brandishing throughout the entire conversation, his jaw set in a stubborn frown.
A moment off cue, she inhaled with a shuddering gasp. "Please. Please, let me explain?"
"I am waiting," he said firmly, "for your agreement to cut ties." In fact, Klein was tempted to leave immediately, but he wanted some kind of confirmation while he had at least one reliable witness.Clarice's hands were clasped again, as if in prayer, and she had swivelled in her seat to almost face him entirely, her calves tucked under the pew. His own posture was more guarded, turned towards the altar at the front of the prayer hall.
The thin beams of sunlight shone through the pinholes there, starlight in the Cathedral's night sky, and Klein made his own silent prayer for a peaceful resolution.
"I have been weak," Clarice said earnestly. "I let fear rule me, when I should have approached you honestly.
"I know you do not remember it, but I have actually liked you for quite some time."
Klein had anticipated some level of confession, but he was still surprised to hear her say it so plainly.
"Naya would tease me for it terribly," she chuckled, shaking her head. "It's why she introduced us. She wasn't the sort to let a friend enter into a bad match, or waste time pining.
"But I first met you at the Khoy Regatta. I'm not surprised you don't remember, as I was just another face in the crowd back then. I had seen you around campus, and you had always looked so downtrodden. But exertion has a way of changing a man. I saw you laughing with Welch after the race, and it was like you were glowing.
"I had volunteered to help hand out drinks to the athletes. I remember it very clearly. Our fingers brushed when you took the glass, and you smiled very sweetly when you said 'thank you'."
This... this is the scene I saw in my divination. He could not remember the Khoy Regatta clearly - it was just a fragmented experience of effort in his memory, but he knew it had been April of the previous year, a whole 15 months ago. How soon after that first meeting did she start moving? The time frame for her arranging the Technical School's charity fund is becoming much clearer.
But my divination for 'love' came back false... a weak negative... uh, evidently I was too naïve in both my statement and my interpretation back then.
"Surely you haven't been interested in me for that long?" He couldn't help but ask, incredulous, a cold sweat forming in the small of his back.
She giggled sadly, her hands unclasping to twirl a loose curl of hair. The gesture that had once seemed so natural, now seemed insidiously engineered. "No, it's just that the memory stuck. It's a moment that became more significant as time added context to it.
"Back then, I was still looking for a potential husband. I may be the fourth daughter, but there were still certain expectations. When I learned you and Welch were friends with Naya, it was only natural that I kept on noticing you.
"I suspect Naya thought a proper conversation would help me get over it. Or maybe she wanted to set you up with a big dowry? I'm afraid it only sealed the deal for me.
"But you were so focused on your studies... I would not have wanted to be a distraction. Besides, I don't know if you remember this, but Welch and Naya were actually quite protective of your time."
Clarice could say whatever she wanted of the dead. In the moment, Klein had no way of knowing if it was true, unless he began flipping coins while she spoke.
"When they died... I thought 'what if Klein's next?'" She huffed another, shaking laugh, as if she were on the verge of tears. "So I hired Mr Bidwell. I'm sorry for betraying your trust. When I tried to write to you, you had already moved house, so I resolved to try and meet you in person.
"Then," she continued to meet his eyes, a sad smile on her face, "you didn't remember me."
Now, introducing that she had known his previous address, she had blended in the partial truth that he had already confirmed: her true purpose in hiring the detective was to locate him.
What a wonderful story.
He watched her in stony silence. If she expected him to comfort her, she would be disappointed. If only she had given up back then...
Clarice heaved another breath as she picked up her hat from beside her, fidgeting with the brim, the image of a shy lady. "But you still talked with me, and you could still grieve with me. Even with your memory damaged, you were still terribly kind.
"So I really do like you, Klein. It's not something I can simply cut off... The mistakes I have made, and the trust I have damaged, won't you please give me the opportunity to make amends?"
"No," he said flatly, heart hammering in his ribs. During her speech he had already resorted to cogitation to stay calm and focused, repressing the faint flares of outrage.
Doesn't she understand that when you force a melon from the vines, it won't be sweet?
Klein decided it was time for one of his trump cards, releasing a hint of his anger in his voice. "I am also aware of what you added to the tea."
"The tea?" She tilted her head and blinked at him guilelessly, lips puckering in confusion. "You mean the herbal blend for vitality?"
You... Klein cursed her in his mind. It seemed she was going to play innocent until the end. "Herbs that can only be purchased from an apothecary, specifically for use as an aphrodisiac?" He rebutted her dryly. Reserving the cards in his hand was only necessary for obscuring his status as a Beyonder -- he never intended to 'play' with her again, and so this was an all or nothing show of conversational force.
"What?!" Clarice's voice rose, then she glanced around the hall, hunching over to hide from the glowers of disturbed worshippers. She dropped back to a low murmur as she spoke in an apparent panic. "I didn't know. I asked my servants to procure a good tea for you."
To be precise, you asked for an 'aphrodisiac, or some similar libido enhancer'. We have all the footage above the grey fog, he lampooned internally.
"Miss Falkner," he spoke steadily. "The opportunity to repair damaged trust is not something you can demand."
"Klein," she whined. "I want to help you."
"I don't need your help." Klein huffed a breath. You can help me by leaving me alone! It seemed he would have to leave without an agreement. Still, he should try to twist the knife somehow. "I did not ask you to start the charity fund for Melissa either, so please do not waste our time with that. I do not need you. My family does not need you."
"How are you so certain, when you have so many holes in your memory?" Clarice continued to speak, words rushing out in an urgent whisper. She had let go of her hat and reached out a hand for his own, which he sharply pulled away. She continued speaking, undaunted. "Things like the graduation ceremony, the meetings with Naya, and our time together..." She looked up at him through her lashes. "I could not have imagined how deeply their deaths affected you.
"It's alright if you forget, because I can remember for you," she lowered her voice into a soft, reverent murmur. " Whether it's your precious friends, or even your mother, I can help you."
"Miss Falkner!" Klein snapped, in tone if not in volume, as he made no effort to hide his irritation. Who knows how many lies you would mix in? "We already discussed this. I am not suffering any further issues, and you never even met my mother. Do you really think stories from the Cathedral can compare? You insult me."
"Then can you tell me her name?"
"What?" The question pulled him up short. It was like being asked if the sun is hot.
"Tell me your mother's name." Clarice's eyes were glinting like the jaws of a bear trap. Klein had fallen into the fallacy of arguing logic with an unreasonable person, and on such a maddeningly absurd topic at that. It was time to leave.
Klein had already opened his mouth to sharply refute her when his mind stumbled. Mother. She's – she was – she was named after a Saint. I know this!
Klein's mother. Mother. Mom. Mrs Moretti. The fragments of memory flew by - short recollections, lessons she taught, prayers at the dinner table, stern warnings, hushed murmurs with Benson after they told Klein to help put Melissa to bed. Dinner table. Prayers. Again and again, like his thoughts had slipped into a loop.
This was ridiculous. Her death was not so distant. He could still recall how gaunt she had become, towards the end. She had died days before his acceptance letter into Khoy University had arrived, so they had read it to her grave. Her grave! What was inscribed on her gravestone? He tried to recall it, but could only grasp the memory of the carefully budgeted white roses that they had lain atop it. The thorns had been trimmed from the stems, but Klein had still gripped them so hard it left lines on his palms.
He couldn't remember. A Saint. She was named after a Saint. Selena? No...
Her name -
"Marianne," Clarice smiled with bared teeth. "Her name was Marianne. A beautiful name for a devout woman. You see, Klein? You need me."
Klein felt sick. "I do not. I do not." He stood to leave. "I cannot return your affections, Miss Falkner. Please, do not contact me again."
She stayed seated, her face stone cold, but her eyes were dark and intense as she watched him rise from his seat.
"You'll change your mind. Write to me when you do," her voice was dangerously calm.
"I will not," Klein retorted frankly, and left the Cathedral.
On his way out he glimpsed that Royale was still seated in her position, and the priest had drifted closer. The priest's expression was lost to him, as it felt as though the world was collapsing at the edges of his vision.
His anger was a dull revelation as he strode across the plaza. He was often annoyed, or irritated, and was very familiar with righteous indignation... but not even the hot flash of fury Zhou Mingrui had felt whenever he'd needed to work overtime to correct his junior's code could hold a candle to the sensation that was now pounding across his forehead.
Klein's steps slowed, returning to a normal pace. Being angry wasn't helpful. In fact, it would be dangerous to wallow in these feelings as a Beyonder.
I'm not being followed...
Royale... she should get back faster than me, and she'll definitely report my missing memories to the Captain. That's fine -- thanks to Leonard, this isn't unexpected. It's more significant than forgetting graduation, but it's not unreasonable... It should not change my standing at Blackthorn.
And I still remember what's important. As soon as Clarice had said the name 'Marianne', clarity had bloomed in his mind, connecting the scattered fragments of memory. The web of connections was fragile, but the certainty was bone-deep. Even though I'd lost her name, the face of Klein's mother - of Marianne - is still clear in my memory... And I can still recall the names of my mother and father back home.
The thought of his parents cooled his head, numbness taking hold as he drifted back towards Zouteland Street.
Clarice Falkner... What sort of reaction was she expecting? And what the hell is she planning now?
Notes: