After inhaling the indoor scent, varnish, Sven heard the tap of footsteps. A man in a blue, collared uniform, gold buttons brandishing before his eyes, fastening the white white wool underneath. On his head, he witnessed an elegant long hat to match and add another layer of presence. “Are you a servant or a soldier?” the visitor asked.
The man paused in the middle of the corridor. “What is the name of the gentleman who implies a difference?”
“Call me Sven.”
“Mr. Sven, sir. If you would state your business…”
“I have a letter…” He held up the envelope. It bore a silver seal with the letter S.
The servant darted with wide eyes. Beaming recognition, he stepped aside and gestured the visitor forward. “We’ve been awaiting thee.”
The visitor, Sven, advanced upright with an aloof smirk. As he passed the servant, the servant followed.
“Who are you, exactly?” Sven asked
“Titus Micolage. Commandant of the college.”
“Which college is that?”
“The College of Caretakers.”
“Oh… You seem rather slim for a Titus.”
“A common observation.”
Down the corridor of doors, they arrived at a terminal stairway leading them upward. Nothing but an antechamber and whatever lay beyond the twin doors. Likely the governor’s quarters, Sven figured. “If you’ll wait while I inform him of your arrival.”
“Nonsense. We’re all friends here!” To the commandant’s horror, Sven was already kicking the door open. “I welcome me!” He entered a realm of chandeliers and navy concrete walls.
“Why this interruption!” Standing over a centered table there was a disgruntled little man resembling the fellow from the first floor portrait. Same cut, same mustache, same darting eyes of pale blue. All but the height was captured in the likeness. Others were present, a couple in rich and colorful attire. A man in a rose-colored cloak and black beaver hat. His seemingly significant other wore an embroidered bodice over a bright yellow dress that made Sven shutter. “No doubt, I am interrupting,” he admitted.
“Commandant?”
Commandant Titus quickly adjusted and stood to attention, “I sought to precipitate his arrival, governor. But he bears your letter. The one with the silver seal.”
The governor raised his brows, carrying them over to the startled couple, confused as they were yet without a willingness to leave their seats. With calmer words, he spoke, “Would the guest be remiss in waiting a speck before proceeding with our interview?”
Sven checked his imaginary pocket watch. “Would a few seconds suffice?”
Uneasy in his expression, the governor looked sympathetically toward his present subjects. “Mr. and Mrs. Braumbeaux, I regret the present circumstance, but this is a matter of prime importance. Might we postpone this—your grievance until your next earliest convenience?”
The noble husband responded promptly and emphatically, “Dear governor, so long as our inquiries do not remain ignored, we are willing to reconvene at a later date.”
“But Cassius!” ejaculated the wife, “Twinklebottom!”
“There, my love. Plenty of eyes roam about that may spot him. Have faith.”
With fragile tenderness, the husband helped her along, and they slowly exited from the floor. Out of a sense of chivalry, the commandant escorted them. “Do shut the doors, Titus,” and Titus carefully sealed the entrance as per the governor’s request.
In silence Sven waited, observing the spectrum of expressions the governor could share within an awkward moment’s time. “As you must be well aware, I am Governor Baldwic Ludger, and this is the jewel of my state. No doubt you read the letter I sent in its entirety.”
“Of course,” Sven grinned.
“I was hoping you might give your evaluation of the anomalous crime with those details.”
Sven sighed, sauntering towards the nearest window of the grand office, contemplating with struggle the questions now emblazoned in his mind. It was late afternoon, the sun penetrated the window from its western horizon, granting a trickle of warmth as he viewed once more the affluent mansions reigning below golden rays. Pause after pause, he hesitated until he could turn and look the anxious politician in the eyes. Boldly, he posed his question. “So is that supposed to be you in the first floor portrait near the entrance?”
“Er…what?” For a moment the governor was flustered.
“Yay or nay?”
“Yes,” he said coolly. “But what’s that— ”
“IT HAS EVERYTHING TO DO WITH THE INVESTIGATION!... I’m sorry, you can finish your sentence.”
“I was just—”
“So where’s the body?”
The creak of the doors opening, and in came Titus with his inquisitive brows. “With your permission, governor, I wish to be present during the interview.”
“Is examining the body imperative?” inquired the governor.
Sven dramatically dropped his hands on the center table. “Questions needs answering. Therefore I must be—” he slammed his hands on the table once more—“hands-on.”
Governor Ludger seemed irked just after Sven’s allusion to ‘the body,’ his face acquired a lasting paleness. He sighed, “Lead the way, commandant.”
ns 15.158.61.21da2
