The Husband Poisoning Society, Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Laila

“We should question the person who found the body,” Fiona said. 

I picked Ada Gertrudsdottir out of the crowd and waved her over. As Ada walked towards us a young woman pushed through the crowd to join her. The new woman had rich red hair and bright green eyes. She was dressed in a hangerok, a traditional Hyperborean dress that looked like an apron.

“Mother, don’t talk to them. You can’t trust their motives.” The young woman said.

Ada turned and snorted, “I trust this one. She drinks like an honest warrior.”

“Mother. You can’t base trust on drunkenness.”

“Laila. Our duke is dead. What am I to do? Nothing?”

“Ada,” I said. “Was the duke alive when you saw him? Or did you find him dead?”

“He died in front of me. This is why I scream. I have seen many dead bodies in my time. They do not scare me. But I have never had a man die in front of me, bleeding from his eyes and mouth. That is new. And not a good new.”

“Mother. Stop.”

I turned to face the daughter, “I’m sorry. Laila, was it?”

She squared up to me like we were about to box, “Yes. Laila Adasdottir. And you?”

“I’m Ren Myrddhin.” I curtsied. Ada was nobility and her daughter would be as well. So a little politeness seemed wise.

Laila’s mouth dropped open. A murmur rippled through the crowd like a breaking wave.

“The She-Wolf of Ys.” Laila said.

I suppressed a grimace. 

“You killed Prince Wulfric.” Laila said.

I shook my head. “No. That one isn’t my fault. Well, not entirely.”

“That’s what they say.”

“I don’t have time to argue that with you. The murderer could be slipping away as we speak. And your mother was the person who saw the duke die.”

 

“How can we trust you?”

I considered this and then said, “The bride is my cousin. I want what is best for her.”

Laila steepled her hands and pressed them to her face. Ada watched her daughter with a smirk, hands on hips. 

“I do not need your say so, Laila. I am your mother. You are not mine.”

“I’m not your daughter. I’m your common sense. And you need me, because you’re drunk.”

I actually laughed at that. Laila turned back to look at me. “That was good.” I made a show of clapping.

“Why do I hear my daughter and my wife yelling? Women should know their place.” A large man pushed through the crowd. He had his daughter’s red hair and green eyes. He stood about my height and was built like a lumberjack. 

“You must be Sven Haroldson.” I said.

He looked at me with narrowed eyes. “And who are you? And why are you arguing with my family?”

Both Ada and Laila went silent, and I sucked on my teeth as I sized him up. I’m a big girl, but I’m not a fighter. Sven stood like a coiled spring, his face flushed and his breath full of alcohol.

I pointed at the body, “Somebody has murdered your duke. And we are investigating.”

He turned, stared at the body, and swore under his breath.

“Who did this?” He bellowed into my face. I took a step back and then collected myself and stepped forward to face him. 

“That’s what we’re trying to uncover. Your wife saw the duke die.”

“He died in front of you, and you did nothing?” He spun to face his wife. Her eyes widened and she stepped back. 

“He was poisoned, my lord” I added the honorific, hoping to appease him.

Sven spun back around to stare at me. He opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He was standing legs wide apart, fists clenched. 

“Lord Sven,” Vincent stepped past me. Vincent stood on five foot nine and seemed small surrounded by the Hyperboreans.

“Lord Sven. I am Count Vincent Metternich. We have been ordered by your Duke Xander to investigate this death. Right now your duke’s killer is escaping, and you’re buying him extra time. Now please, step back. Allow us to work.”

Sven stared at Vincent and then took a breath, “Your Excellency. I forget myself. Thank you for your assistance in the death of my duke.”

Sven turned back to his wife, “Tell his excellency what you saw.”

I put my hands on my hips. Amy slid beside me, “If they need to hear it from a man, let them hear it from a man, dearest.”

Ada opened her mouth. And then the voice of another woman cut through the hall.

“Is that my husband?”

Monique and Lynn stood at the edge of the crowd.

“Perfect,” I muttered.