Part 22

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  • Dedicated to Thobias Gerlach
                                    

Finally time to quit. Moira sped up the stairs and wondered if Druidus would take her to Lavant's company again. She was just about to hurry through the entrance door, when she noticed Druidus waiting beside his carpisto. She hesitated when she saw a woman with blond curls hurry toward him. The expensive Designer costume seemed familiar. She stood rooted as Druidus hugged Aparta de Frees and kissed her heartily on the mouth. All of a sudden, her throat was parched, and her knees shook.

So, he did lie after all. Tears shot into her eyes. She stumbled toward a bench in the hall and sank onto it. I wonder if he ever truly loved me. Or did he only playact? I'm such an idiot. She put her hands on her knees, closed her eyes, and forced herself not to cry. She wouldn't let Druidus see her desperation. After a while, she had her feeling sunder control again. She pushed her chin out and walked to the door. Druidus and Aparta had left.

No problem, I'm not going to see him again anyway. She bit her lower lip and went to stop a taxi.

Lavant led her into a small office filled with plants. The walls were covered in creepers, and the low desk was a single plank of massive oak. A cardboard box stood on top.

"These are the last few cases Bastide worked on," Lavant said. "The older cases are in the archive just in case you need them. I couldn't find anything else but you can have a look for yourself." He kissed Moira's cheek and left her alone.

Moira crouched in front of the desk, unpacked the files, and opened the first one. She caught herself thinking of Druidus. With a frown, she pressed her lips together and forced herself to read the tiny script. Bastide had recorded every detail of the case, but there was nothing about Lif -- and not in the next one or the one after. Still, she read every single file thoroughly. When she opened the second to last folder, a name jumped out at her.

Excelsior van Steen against Unknown

What did Bastide have to do with Druidus' father? She delved in the words. Soon, she realized that Excelsior suspected his wife of having an affair. Due to his own statement, he feared more his good name would suffer then considering his wife's lover a problem. He had hired the elf to find out the man's identity so he could remove him from his wife's life with a generous sum of money.

Just like he did with Druidus' girlfriend, Moira thought. He probably thinks he can buy everything with his money. I just hope his wife's lover won't fall for this.

The last letter Bastide had written to Excelsior asked for the payment of the agreed sum. After reception of the money, Bastide had meant to tell him the name of the lover. The letter had been dated to the day of Bastide's death. That meant that Excelsior didn't know the result of Bastide's research. And it wasn't in the file either. Serves him right. Moira closed the file. The last folder contained a detailed report about the happenings on the carnival and about Bastide's arrest. Moira put it aside and wondered if he had hidden a diary somewhere. She looked for hidden drawers in the desk and secret compartments under the floorboards or in the walls without success. Finally, she gave up and went to her father to say goodbye.

He didn't let her keep him from taking her home personally. When they stopped in front of her house, her turned and looked into her eyes. "You've been in a dark cloud the whole evening. Don't you want to tell me what's wrong?"

Moira froze. Was she so easy to read? She couldn't tell him about Druidus. The wound was too raw. She needed an excuse, and fast.

"They shunted me into the archive to sort files."

"That's not all, is it?" Lavant cocked his head.

Moira folded her arms in front of her chest and stared at the dashboard. Lavant waited. She really couldn’t tell him. He'd been the first man who deserted her. How could she? She glanced at him sideways, but he just sat there, silent and strong. His presence eased her mind like it used to do when she had problems as a kid. Still, her pain was none of his business anyway.

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