Eighteen

I had intended to be nice with Vulug. To take things easy and somehow gain his trust, but my old pain reared its ugly head and I had to pounce.

Vulug didn’t look comfortable after I threw the question at him. He’d just said he didn’t do it, but I saw Heston’s body. Those could only have been done by someone quite strong, someone like Vulug.

Sure, maybe the back of the head was a bit much and didn’t seem possible. But my imagination had run wild the moment I’d heard Vulug had been around Heston.

I figured it had been something like repeated slams against a wall or the ground. Certainly with Vulug’s strength, Heston’s injury was explainable.

Vulug was almost twitching in his seat. Like there were bugs under his skin or something. I’d never seen a more obvious guilty reaction in my career. Heck, my whole life.

His face contorted into an uncomfortable mess. It looked like he was struggling to find the words he needed to talk to me.

“Vince. You need to believe me when I say it wasn’t me.” His eyes were pleading. Tears had begun to well up.

“So what can you tell me then, buddy?” I leaned in now and looked at him through a puff of smoke.

“I can’t say. I don’t remember.” He jolted his head a little, as though he were annoyed at himself.

“Okay. So, when I say I have an eyewitness that put you in the alleyway where the body of Heston Barclay was. You tell me it wasn’t you, but you can’t remember. Well,” I turned slowly away, but then whipped back around to him. “You gotta understand why that doesn’t help you. It doesn’t look good.”

“I know, I know. It looks stupid. But I need your help here, to prove it wasn’t me.” Vulug’s hands started to shake. Anxiety was taking control of his body.

“Vulug, Vulug, Vulug old buddy. I saw Heston’s body. You’re powerful. It had to have been you. Even with the cane that Jackson carries, it wouldn’t be possible.”

“Jackson. Go talk to Jackson. He’ll remember that night. I know he will. He had something to do with it, I’m telling you.”

“So how’d you do it? Did you hit him when he wasn’t looking?”

“No.”

“No, you’re a slugger. A frontal approach. So you let him watch as you hit him? What did you do though? You slammed his head against the pavement a few times?”

“Stop it.” I could see anger in Vulug’s eyes now. He was getting ready to confess, I could tell.

“Why’d you do it though, Vulug. Weren’t you guys all buddies? You made him money, he showed you a good time? Why was Jackson there with you, did he try and stop you?”

“Enough!” Vulug screamed. He stood up from behind his desk and made to grab for me. He was so blinded by his rage; he’d forgotten how crammed up he was behind it.

I took a step back and watched him. His nostrils flared and his eyes looked like they could kill.

“Oi, what’s going on?” Mazar opened the door and leaned in. He looked at Vulug then at me. “Right, you’re done here.” He made to grab for me, but I batted his hand away.

“No, he and I still need to talk,” said Vulug.

“But bro?” Mazar looked confused. Vulug pointed for him to leave.

“Vincent Clay. If you really are a detective, and hopefully a good one, you’ll figure this out. I would never harm Heston Barclay. He was a dear friend, and I was going to be the best man at his wedding.” In that moment, I believed him.

“Not Jackson?” I asked.

“No. Jackson was almost uninvited from the wedding altogether. His hatred for fairyfolk had gotten to Heston. Their friendship had soured over the last few months.” I took out my notebook and started writing some notes.

“Do you think he was jealous of you?” I asked.

“Yes. But I hardly think petty jealousy over being replaced as a best man is enough grounds for being a part of a murder. No, there has to be something deeper.”

“I still need something to work with, with you being seen in the alleyway.” I raised an eyebrow as I watched him.

“I know I was there. I know Jackson was there, as well as Heston. I don’t know why we walked down a dead-end alley. I barely remember what we were talking about. I don’t even remember going home, but I awoke there the next day.”

“Was there anything different about that night you all hung out at the Cracked Cauldron? Anything unusual?”

“Hmm.” Vulug looked down at the table, a deep stare as he tried to recall the night. “The gem in Jackson’s cane was new. He was showing it off, as though it were something to be proud of. I also remember I felt off for most of the night. It suddenly hit me; I couldn’t even eat.”

“How do you mean, off?”

“Just, not right in the head, the body. Like something was slowly coming over me. I pushed through it belt I felt extremely lethargic the next day.”

“So you believe Jackson has something to do with all of this?”

“Yes. I think he remembers that night and what happened.”

“Okay. Well, I need to talk to him anyway.” I shook Vulug’s hand and made my way out of the cramped office. “One more thing Vulug.”

“What’s that?”

“If a detective by the name of Anjali Khan comes through, wanting some answers. Don’t give her any. This is my case, and I’m gonna solve it.” I gave a little grin. Vulug returned the smile and gave me a little nod.

“Mazar won’t even let her into the building.”