Chapter Text
Ms Eliza — she was an elderly woman well into her sixties, wearing a well-worn buttoned coat that rested over a dark brown turtleneck, tucked neatly into a long dark green pleated skirt with black tights underneath and dark brown slippers; completing the modest outfit, lending her the appearance of a gentle, humble woman.
She had short silver curls framing a face lined with age rather than hardship, while her complexion lay somewhere between fair and lightly sun-kissed.
From the loveseat, Hugin cradled a cup of freshly brewed tea with a drop of milk, resting it against his crossed knee as his gaze followed how she carefully lowered a small silver tray onto the wooden coffee table before them, its ornate embossing catching a bit of the morning light from the window to his right; a neat arrangement of biscuits rested upon it, their sweet aroma drifting through the room.
The table itself stood atop an old, expensive carpet, positioned between the sofa he shared with Rex and the pair of matching armchairs upholstered in the same rich brown-black fabric facing the two of them.
It was the armchair opposite Hugin that Ms Eliza chose to lower herself onto with care, her knees trembling faintly beneath the folds of her skirt. Even so, the open smile never left her face as she settled comfortably and turned her attention towards the two of them.
By then, Hugin had already formed a fairly clear impression of the woman.
While she had been occupied preparing the tea after inviting them inside, he had swiftly surveyed the flat that revealed more than enough. She lived alone; the absence of any trace of another resident made that plain. The glass-fronted cabinets displayed books, variety of different ornaments and carefully arranged keepsakes rather than gifts exchanged between spouses. Near the entrance stood only a few pairs of women’s shoes, and the coat stand held no sign of a man's outerwear either.
Not widowed, though.
Despite her preference for earthy, subdued colours, there was nothing that suggested mourning. She wore no black jewellery, no memorial photographs occupied prominent places, and the cheerful ticking of the clock atop the wooden cabinet lent the home a quiet sense of life. The flat simply felt minimalist, well cared for, and comfortably lived in.
Yet she might have been married.
The evidence lay in two framed photographs. One showed Ms Eliza standing beside a young man, both smiling warmly at the kamera. The second featured the same young man, now dressed in a sharply tailored suit before an imposing building Hugin recognised as belonging to a well recognised although not a prestigious universities.
Her son, most likely, though another relation remained possible.
Whatever the connection, Hugin still judged that Ms Eliza was a divorced woman living alone in a modest sixth-floor flat without the desire to leave her home to go out, and the balcony to his further right reinforced the impression.
The balcony doors stood open, allowing the cool morning breeze to drift through the room, and beyond them, a riot of colourful plants filled the small balcony. Some had spilt over slightly into the living space, while others stretched towards the sky or trailed over the railing, disappearing from Hugin's view. Through the wall, he also caught sight of a small white wooden chair positioned to catch the afternoon sun.
She clearly found contentment in spending her days at home rather than venturing beyond it.
Some of the flowers, however, gave him pause. Several species, to the best of his admittedly limited botanical knowledge, did not belong in Silverium at all. Hugin found himself wondering whether she employed a caretaker with a fondness for exotic flowers, or whether the young man in the photographs brought her foreign seeds whenever he came to visit.
Or perhaps someone else?
Either way, with every observation carefully filed away within his mental palace, Hugin arrived at a second most important conclusion.
The price she had offered in her letter most certainly came from her savings.
She did live comfortably enough, that much was evident, but not extravagantly. The flat was well maintained without displaying any excess, and the flourishing balcony garden likely supplied a fair portion of her produce. Whatever meat found its way to her table was probably brought by the young man in the photographs, or perhaps by a caretaker, should one exist. It certainly didn’t suggest the income of someone with considerable wealth.
Closing his eyes, Hugin lifted the teacup and breathed in its fragrant steam before taking a careful sip; a quiet sigh escaped him almost at once. Lowering the cup, he studied the light amber liquid, faintly tinged with pink, with genuine curiosity.
Hmm… It was unlike any tea he had tasted before. Delicate floral notes lingered on the tongue, reminiscent of lavender, yet beneath them rested a fuller, richer flavour that carried the aroma of honey despite containing none, where somehow, the brew itself balanced sweetness and bitterness perfectly.
An idea began turning over in his mind right as Ms Eliza's gentle, elderly voice drew his attention back to her. "Please forgive me for not having everything prepared beforehand. I truly didn't think you would come so soon, or so early, Sir Hugin!" She spared a brief glance towards Rex before looking back at Hugin, quiet distress colouring her expression.
Hugin shook his head, offering her a reassuring smile as he cradled the warm cup between his hands. "There's no need to apologise, Ms Eliza. Your hospitality is greatly appreciated, though never expected. It was I who failed to respond to your letter," Hugin reassured her, continuing without a pause, "Having read it only this morning, I thought it best to attend to the matter without delay."
Relief softened her features at his words, visibly settling further into her chair, where each of her movements appeared composed and dignified, though a trace of tension did remain in the way her gaze lingered on him.
A woman of respectable upbringing? The thought surfaced as he observed her over another sip of tea before gently closing his eyes again. There was refinement in her posture that years alone could not erase. He wondered whether she had given up a comfortable life for a marriage that had ultimately failed, or whether some entirely different circumstance had led her here.
As he swallowed the tea, Ms Eliza spoke again. "Please forgive my words; I truly mean no offence by them. I'm truly grateful for your presence here."
Hugin already knew what was coming before she continued. Her gaze had repeatedly drifted towards Rex who was seated beside him, rigid as a carved statue and watching her with an unwavering intensity that was clearly unsettling the poor woman.
"However..." She hesitated, offering Rex an apologetic smile before looking back to Hugin. "I didn't believe my matter would warrant the attention of the Navy." At her own words, the woman visibly paled, her eyes widening as she clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp. "Is it truly that serious, Detective? Am I in any serious danger?"
Hugin nearly choked on the delicious tea he had been trying to savour, caught entirely off guard by the alarm in her voice and the colour draining from her face rather than her words.
To him, the truth behind the case had been obvious the moment she had finished recounting everything that had happened.
The reason he had estimated it would take two or three days was simple enough: he needed time to gather sufficient evidence to prove to Ms Eliza that she was, in fact, in no danger whatsoever.
Don't laugh. Don't laugh. The mantra repeated itself behind his closed eyes as he composed his features, hoping it appeared as though he were simply considering her concerns. After a long moment, he opened his eyes, rested the teacup upon his knee, and offered her a warm, reassuring smile. "Please rest assured, Madam, that your case is not as serious as it may feel. However, the Navy's Superintendent—"
At the title alone, Ms Eliza's eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. Hugin cast a fleeting glance at Rex, noting the man’s gloved hands, being as steady as ever, had tightened almost imperceptibly around his untouched teacup, while his head dipped just enough to cast a deeper shadow across his eyes.
Hugin recognised the gesture as Rex being deeply uncomfortable — as though his very presence only served to make him feel even more out of place than he felt before.
Hugin had to suppress a smile as Ms Eliza instinctively shifted farther along the sofa, putting a little more distance between herself and the man who, to her, could only resemble a stern and thoroughly intimidating officer of the law.
To dispel the unease that the two of them were unintentionally creating, Hugin decided to reassure the woman much as one might reassure someone that a threatening-looking dog was, in fact, harmless.
He reached across and gave Rex a few firm pats on his back while flashing Ms Eliza an easy smile. "He's a remarkably caring man, you know. He told me himself that everyone deserves the same measure of justice, regardless of the nature of the case." Hugin spoke with complete sincerity, though the praise served another purpose as well.
Hugin genuinely believed Rex was more likely to see the investigation through even after hearing of its true nature. Even so, there remained the slightest possibility that he might not — and having glimpsed the sort of equipment the Navy had at its disposal, Hugin had no intention of passing up an opportunity to make the investigation considerably easier.
Withdrawing his hand from Rex's back, Hugin took another sip of the delightful tea.
And much like a gust of wind sweeping dark clouds from the sky, his light-hearted manner eased the tension that had settled over the room, replacing it with something far gentler.
Ms Eliza's eyes widened with relief, and her posture softened as she settled more comfortably into her chair, her hands folding neatly in her lap as she turned her attention back towards Rex, missing the fleeting sceptical glance he shot Hugin before redirecting his own gaze to her, only to look visibly uncertain by the gratitude with which she regarded him.
Rex kept his back perfectly straight, though his grip on the untouched teacup had become so firm that Hugin found himself half expecting the porcelain to crack.
"My sincerest apologies, Sir," Ms Eliza said, bowing her head.
From the corner of his eye, Hugin caught Rex's brief look of surprise before the man's features settled once more into the composed mask of an officer. He clearly was not accustomed to dealing with elderly civilians, where the sight reminded Hugin of a large dog carefully picking its way through a room full of fragile ornaments, determined not to break a single one.
"It's just my son — Silvian. He's a simple man whose work as a partnership manager keeps him travelling from place to place, but he's always admired those in law enforcement and speaks very highly of the Navy. He always tells me that the Navy only handles the most dangerous cases, so seeing you here admittedly frightened me quite a bit." She spoke with an almost sheepish smile, though her pride in her son was unmistakable. Hugin had little doubt now that Silvian was the young man in the framed photographs.
Rex gave a single nod. "No apology is necessary, Madam. I understand completely." His voice sounded noticeably gentler than the clipped, authoritative tone he used on his subordinates, even on Hugin whenever duty demanded it where nidway through another sip, Hugin paused and cast Rex a discreet sideways glance. So even you have a soft spot for elderly ladies.
He quietly filed the observation away before returning his attention to Ms Eliza, whose face brightened into a warm smile. "Thank you so much for your understanding, and for everything the Navy has done. The streets have never felt safer than they do now, certainly not compared with when the Constabulary handled everything. Actually—" Her eyes lit up with a familiar spark that Hugin immediately recognised as the prelude to harmless gossip.
Deciding it was time to bid his tea a farewell, Hugin tipped his head back to finish the last of it before setting the cup gently upon its saucer. He turned his attention back to Ms Eliza, ready to steer the conversation onwards, only to pause at her question.
"May I ask your Navy rank, Sir?"
There was a quiet note of hope in her voice, softened by genuine curiosity. Beside him, Rex looked up, the brim of his cap no longer casting a shadow across his eyes, where his expression was openly baffled that an elderly woman knew enough about the Navy to ask such a question. Then again, having heard how passionat her son spoke of it, Hugin supposed it was only natural that she had taken an interest in the subject, if only so she could share in something he loved.
"I simply wish to tell my son which ranking officer I had the pleasure of meeting," she finished with a warm smile, confirming precisely what Hugin had already deduced.
Actually... Hugin felt his own curiosity stir as he turned towards Rex, scarcely concealing his interest, unlike Ms Eliza was doing. What rank are you?
As far as he knew, the Navy's hierarchy was… complex, with only a few ranks that might reasonably be assigned to overseeing another branch — though assumptions like that would lead to nowhere. Unless Rex chose to answer, Hugin had no way of knowing for sure. That's how tightly underwraps the Navy was.
With two pairs of eyes fixed upon him now, Rex quickly shed his momentary surprise, settling back into the composed expression of an experienced officer. "I'm afraid that information is currently confidential due to my position as Constabulary Superintendent, Madam."
The disappointment on Ms Eliza's face was immediate, though she accepted the answer with a small nod. Even so, Hugin caught the faintest glimmer of lingering defiance in her eyes.
Feeling Rex draw a slow breath beside him, no doubt seeing it too, Hugin decided it was truly time to move the conversation along.
"Ms Eliza, forgive the interruption, but if I may—"
Her eyes widened as they turned to him. She promptly covered her mouth, looking for all the world like a child caught sneaking a sweet. Then, closing her eyes with an embarrassed smile, she gave a small nod. "Of course, Detective. You'll have to forgive an old lady's fondness for talking."
Hugin returned the smile and straightened in his seat, resting both hands upon his knees while choosing to ignore how he felt Rex next to him relax. "I've read your account of the situation, but I'd much rather hear it from you directly. A letter can only convey so much, and I'd rather not overlook anything that may prove important."
Ms Eliza nodded in understanding and folded her hands neatly in her lap. After a moment, her gaze drifted towards the untouched plate of biscuits, lingering there. There was a quiet contemplation in her expression, accompanied by a look Hugin recognised all too well, having seen it on Alf's face far too many times when she made him something.
He nudged Rex lightly with his elbow, earning a narrowed look that plainly asked: What?
Paying no mind to the unnecessary sharpness behind it, Hugin tilted his head ever so slightly towards the tray. Rex followed the subtle gesture before looking back at him with an expression that suggested Hugin had finally lost what little sense Rex believed he possessed.
Meeting the stare with a flat look, Hugin decided to reach across the table, pick up one of the biscuits, seize Rex's left hand without warning, and place it firmly into his palm before nudging his hand back towards him.
For a fleeting moment, Rex merely stared at the biscuit, no doubt processing what had just happened, before looking up over the brim of his cap.
His expression made it abundantly clear he was all but ready to throw it straight back at Hugin, however, before he could, he visibly froze the instant Ms Eliza looked up at him with an eager, hopeful smile.
Rex blinked at her. With a biscuit in one hand and his teacup in the other, he cut a rather comical figure.
Hugin watched with perhaps a little more satisfaction than was strictly necessary as Rex's gaze slipped away before reluctantly settling on the offending sweet. What followed sounded suspiciously like a resigned sigh before Rex took a cautious bite, only to wash it down immediately with a far more generous mouthful of tea; the sight alone leaving Ms Eliza still visibly delighted.
Satisfied with himself, Hugin decided to try one as well while Ms Eliza began recounting her story.
If her tea tastes this wonderful, surely the biscuits must be—
His eyes flew wide. The biscuit was as dry as desert sand.
Suppressing his coughing, Hugin quickly rested an elbow on the armrest and covered his mouth, muffling what he could as several coughs escaped despite his efforts. Before long, he felt his eyes beginning to water, and through the blur of tears, he shot Rex a withering glare.
The Superintendent, meanwhile, remained perfectly composed. The biscuit was already gone, and he sat ramrod straight; casting Hugin a sidelong look over the rim of his teacup, Rex held his gaze while taking an infuriatingly slow sip.
Hidden from everyone but Hugin, the faint smirk curling at the corner of Rex's mouth betrayed exactly how much he was enjoying his suffering.
Bloody sadist.
Hugin quietly exhaled through his nose, staring for a brief moment at the offensive biscuit still sitting in his hand as Ms Eliza's voice filled the room.
"I believe it would be best if I started from the beginning. It all began two or three months ago, and it's been happening ever since."
At once, both Hugin's and Rex's attention settled fully upon her. As she spoke, her gaze wandered slowly around the flat, searching the familiar surroundings as though they might help her untangle memories that might be difficult for her to put into words.
Making use of the momentary distraction, Hugin slipped a hand into his breast pocket and withdrew his handkerchief. Shielding the movement with practised ease, he placed the dry biscuit into the folded cloth before tucking both neatly back into his pocket, all without drawing so much as a glance.
After the brief pause, Ms Eliza looked between the two men. "I can't say it happens frequently — no, no — but it happens often enough that I'm frightened to fall asleep at night."
Hugin gave a small nod. It matched what she had written in her letter. The occurrences were irregular rather than frequent, yet they happened often enough, and almost exclusively at night, leaving her deeply unsettled.
"What is it that frightens you so, Madam?" Rex's voice cut cleanly through Hugin's thoughts. It was steady rather than stern, with softer edge, drawing Ms Eliza's complete attention.
Ah, right... He's still unaware of why the Constabulary dismissed this case.
Had Hugin still been holding his teacup, he would have taken another leisurely sip while waiting for the expression he already suspected would soon find its way onto Rex's face. Without taking his eyes off the Superintendent, Hugin listened as Ms Eliza answered.
"Well..." The hesitation, absent from her letter, immediately caught his attention.
It told him that she herself was not entirely certain what she had been hearing. All she knew was that the noise had been loud and intrusive enough to make her fear for her safety within her own home, leaving her imagination to supply what seemed the most plausible explanation to her.
Hugin glanced towards her just as she was pointing at the ceiling, her eyes wide with earnest concern as she stared directly at Rex, who remained wholly focused on every word she spoke.
"Especially at night — though sometimes at random hours during the day — I hear this awful thumping from the rooftop!" she exclaimed, her voice rising as much as it could, her wide, fearful eyes never leaving Rex where with every word, Hugin found himself pressing his lips together a little more firmly.
"It always begins the same way. One moment everything's quiet, just the ordinary sounds from the street — and then, bang! Something heavy lands near the entrance, followed by what sounds like thunderous footsteps racing straight over my head, from this room all the way to the kitchen. I don't dare move... I scarcely even breathe, for fear it might realise I'm here." She lowered her hand, her shoulders curling inwards as though reliving the terror. "Only after it reaches the kitchen do the footsteps finally disappear."
Having already pieced together the full picture from her letter, Hugin was hardly surprised when Rex quietly asked,
"It?" The Superintendent's voice never wavered. If anything, it grew more focused — for now.
Ah... perhaps I'm a touch of a sadist as well. The thought crossed Hugin's mind for only the briefest instant before he returned his attention to the conversation.
Ms Eliza wasted no time answering. Unsurprisingly, she seemed far more at ease confiding in the Navy's Superintendent than she might have been with Hugin alone. Judging by the way she spoke of the Navy earlier, her son's admiration for the organisation had clearly influenced her trust.
"Yes... yes, it." She nodded and leaned forward slightly, instinctively angling herself towards Rex. "I fear it may be my late ex-husband's mother. I believe her resentment has bound her to me, and now she's trying to frighten me to death only so she can drag me to wherever she is." She spoke with unmistakable sincerity, cradling her right cheek in a trembling hand as she stared down at her knees, utterly convinced of every word she had just uttered.
Rex, however, reacted very differently.
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and Hugin watched him quietly work through the newly shared information. There was something oddly fascinating about observing another mind wrestle with conclusions that Hugin himself had reached almost in a instant.
Under different circumstances, he would have allowed the Superintendent to puzzle it out at his own pace — Unfortunately, Hugin possessed neither the time nor the luxury to indulge him.
Taking advantage of the silence, he spoke, giving the very reason Ms Eliza's letters had repeatedly been dismissed by the Constabulary, leaving her convinced that turning to him had been her only remaining option.
"Yes... you did mention most of that in your letter. But just to ensure I have everything I need before beginning the investigation, Ms Eliza—"
The woman's hopeful eyes settled expectantly upon him, waiting for his next question.
Hugin allowed his voice to remain light and unhurried, perhaps enjoying Rex's unwavering attention a touch more than he ought to have. "I do apologise, but I can't quite recall the precise words you used. What was it you believed this matter to be?"
The instant the question left his lips, Hugin turned to Rex, meeting the Superintendent's eyes directly. Resting an elbow upon the arm of the loveseat, he propped his cheek against his fist, concealing the faint smirk threatening to form from the woman as he calmly held the man's searching gaze while Ms Eliza answered with complete sincerity.
"I believe what I'm experiencing is the ghost of my late ex-husband's mother, haunting me for divorcing her son and tarnishing his reputation through evidence of his ill-temper turned on me."
The moment the word “ghost” left her mouth, Rex's eyes widened, his attention snapping back to Ms Eliza, where Hugin followed a heartbeat later, considerably less hurried than the Superintendent. His gaze settled upon the frightened yet utterly earnest woman, his expression softening despite himself.
He knew of her belief that it was a ghost — Her explanation of why she believed she was being haunted, however, was never disclosed in her letter.
With a quiet sigh and his eyes briefly closed, Hugin pushed aside the revelation about her former husband's temper. Disturbing though it was, it had no bearing on the investigation, where instead, he willed himself to turn his thoughts back to the matter at hand.
A brief glance at Rex showed the Superintendent's professional composure already restored. Whether it was the product of discipline or simply experience from hearing such accounts — if not witnessing far worse — Rex had clearly learned to keep his composure.
Hugin rose from the loveseat while Rex set his half-empty teacup onto its saucer before quietly following suit. Straightening to his full height, the Superintendent settled into the effortless posture expected of an officer of his rank, his hands clasped neatly behind his back.
"Thank you, Ms Eliza," Hugin said. "The detail you've provided will be invaluable in helping us determine what's been happening on the rooftop above your flat."
His reassurance seemed to ease the woman's worry, if only slightly. A faint glimmer of hope softened her anxious features, where Hugin noted the subtle change with quiet satisfaction.
Hugin tipped his hat to her. "Madam. Rest assured that the Navy and I will work together to resolve this matter." He then gestured towards the entrance. "May I ask how one reaches the rooftop? I noticed the staircase continuing upwards when we arrived — Is that it and will we require a key?"
Ms Eliza nodded her head. "Yes, and no. You need only open the door. Do be careful, though — the hinges have become rather rusty over the years, so it may take a little more force than you expect." She rose as she spoke and accompanied the two men to the entrance.
Hugin acknowledged the warning with a grateful smile before slipping effortlessly into his shoes. Rex followed suit a moment later. Once they had stepped into the corridor, with Ms Eliza lingering in the doorway, Hugin inclined his head politely once more. "Thank you for your hospitality, Madam. I'd ask that you go about your day as you normally would and leave the rest to us." Straightening, he offered the same reassuring smile. "If I may, however, would it be alright if I returned after we've finished inspecting the rooftop? There is one thing I'd like to ask you."
Ms Eliza smiled and nodded. "Of course, Detective. Please, ask whatever you need. I'll do everything I can to help."
Hugin tipped the brim of his hat in gratitude. "Your cooperation is greatly appreciated. I hope you have a pleasant day, Madam."
"And you as well, Detective. Do be careful; the rooftop has no railings!" Her warning followed him as he turned towards the staircase leading upwards.
He had scarcely taken a few steps before realising Rex had not moved. Pausing in his tracks, Hugin turned back.
The Superintendent still stood before the elderly woman, catching him just as he lowered his upper body in a courteous bow before straightening once more. "Madam," Rex said, his voice as level as ever, though still carrying the newly discovered gentler note. "I don't wish to intrude, but for your own safety... are you still in contact with your ex-husband?"
The question caught Hugin slightly off guard. He had not expected it, and his mind had not been given enough time to form any likely explanations or scenarios of how it might go before his attention was stolen back to Ms Eliza.
The elderly woman offered Rex a sorrowful smile. "No... I don't even know whether he's still alive, Sir."
Rex regarded her quietly for a moment — yet whatever doubt remained in his expression soon faded as he recognised the honesty in her voice and gave her a single nod. "Thank you for your trust."
As he said that, he reached towards the black leather bag attached to the right side of his belt. From within, he withdrew a small notepad and fountain pen, quickly writing something down before tearing out the page and offering it to her.
Rex held out the slip of paper, which Ms Eliza accepted with a mixture of curiosity and confusion; her expression no doubt mirroring the unspoken question that had crossed Hugin's own mind as Rex answered exactly what he had been wondering.
"Should you ever feel threatened or unsafe, please send a letter to this address, including what I have written there." He gestured at the slip of paper with the pen before returning both the items into his bag. Adjusting the cap on his head, he kept his attention fixed on the woman as she carefully read what he had written before lifting her gaze again.
Hugin stood too far away and too far off to the wall to make out her expression, but whatever she was showing prompted Rex to add, "As the Navy's Superintendent, you have my word that your letter will not go unanswered."
Ms Eliza pulled the paper closer to her chest. "Thank you, Sir. You're a very kind and caring officer," she said with sincerity, and though Hugin couldn’t see Rex's expression clearly from where he stood, the slight rise of the man's shoulders and the subtle dip of his head spoke volumes.
Such words were likely very rare for him to hear, especially when most of what he heard due to his position were curses and insults thrown his way from the suspects he was tasked with pursuing or interrogating.
Watching with his arms folded and a faint warmth settling into his smile, Hugin observed as Rex tipped his hat in farewell and offered the woman another polite bow before swiftly turning away and making his way towards him, where Rex tugged his cap lower, deliberately hiding more of his face beneath its brim the closer he got to Hugin.
A pointless attempt, truly. The man clearly hadn’t realised that it was not his face betraying his flushed state.
You're far too easy to fluster, Superintendent. Hugin allowed himself a quiet amusement as Rex passed. Beneath the edge of his still unruly hair and the cap, the faint redness colouring the man's ear was impossible to miss as he continued towards the same staircase leading further up to the rooftop.
Turning away from Rex, Hugin’s eyes settled back on Ms Eliza, who had already begun closing her door when his voice stopped her.
She paused and peered around the doorframe, meeting his eyes with a silent: Yes?
“Ms Eliza, just a quick question. Did you hear any of the other residents using the stairwell to the rooftop?”
Ms Eliza stepped a little further out of her flat, shaking her head as she held the paper Rex had given her carefully against her chest, her back held straight. “Can’t say I did, Detective. Most of us living here are well over fifty, with the youngest being fifty-four.” She paused briefly, and Hugin quietly set aside the possibility that the noise had come from someone within the building. “Not to mention, at that age, I doubt any of us would have the strength to prise those doors open. I heard from a sweet woman on the fourth floor that Sir Leo, down on the ground floor, tried it once and nearly broke his spine. The poor man!”
Even the memory seemed to horrify her. Her face paled at the thought, and Hugin nodded once more before turning towards the stairs, though he kept his gaze on her for another moment.
“Thank you again, Madam. That will be all for now.”
He watched as she bowed and stepped back into her flat, her eyes remaining fixed on him. “I should be the one thanking you, Detective.”
Hugin turned fully away, waving off her words with an amused smile. “Please. It is my utmost pleasure.”
He heard nothing further from her, only felt the gentle weight of her gaze linger for a moment longer before it disappeared with the soft click of her door closing just as he began climbing the stairs.
Hugin expected to find the rooftop door already open, yet instead, he found Rex standing there with his arms crossed, positioned to the right of the old iron door, its surface visibly worn thin by age and very much closed.
Reaching his side, Hugin looked between the Superintendent and the door, momentarily bewildered. “Need a hand?” he asked, a hint of surprise slipping into his voice.
Rex huffed, making no attempt to hide the flatness of his expression. “No. But I am forbidden from damaging property without a permit, unless the situation warrants it.”
Hugin stared at him, his mouth falling open for the briefest moment before his eyes narrowed. It didn't take much to realise that Rex wanted Hugin to have the first attempt, so that he could "legally" intervene afterwards.
Hugin rolled his eyes. "Unbelievable," he muttered beneath his breath as he rolled his shirtsleeves up to his elbows, irritation prickling beneath his skin as he couldn't even argue with the man. Rex wasn't breaking the law, nor twisting it to suit himself; he was simply following it to the letter.
I hate rigid people in the legal system. His unimpressed stare settled on the door. He already knew this was going to hurt.
With a quiet sigh, he still tried what Rex had undoubtedly already attempted: stepping closer, he wrapped his fingers around the handle and gave it a firm tug—
It refused to budge.
He tried again—
Then again.
And again with greater force, but the heavy resistance remained.
After several futile attempts, he finally let go as he could feel Rex's judgmental gaze weighting on him from the side where the man remained perfectly silent, seemingly content to watch Hugin exhaust every option on his own until arriving at the obvious answer which he already knew.
With a low sigh, Hugin let his head hang as he took a step backwards until the heels of his boots hovered near the edge of the stairs. Drawing a deep breath, he gave a quick prayer to whichever nameless god might be listening before charging forwards with all the force he could muster.
For a fleeting instant, he imagined the door bursting open and himself turning to greet Rex with the most insufferably smug smile imaginable—
Only to slam his side into solid iron with a harsh, rattling impact that threw him straight back.
A sharp burst of pain exploded through his shoulder, blurring his vision as a strangled, pitched sound escaped him before he could bite it back. He staggered several unsteady steps, fighting to regain his balance, where with another half-step, he already aww himself tumbling headlong down the staircase, likely sending every resident rushing from their rooms to see what had happened—
Without even looking away from the door, Rex reached out with one hand and caught Hugin by the back of his collar just as his life flashed before his eyes. The sudden halt sent his stomach lurching, giving him only a brief glimpse of the stairwell before Rex pulled him back as though he weighed nothing at all. The moment Hugin’s feet were firmly planted on the floor again, Rex released him.
Determined not to make another sound, Hugin clutched his throbbing shoulder and glared at the offending door as though it had personally insulted him.
"Guess it can't be helped, then," Rex said, his voice low as he rolled his shoulders and stepped in front of the door at last, his gaze never leaving it.
Hugin shot him a glaring look. "My hero," he drawled, each syllable dripping with sarcasm, to which Rex didn’t react in the slightest — not that Hugin cared. The moment the man’s back was turned, he allowed himself an exaggerated, silent grimace, his mouth falling open as he cradled his poor shoulder.
While Hugin continued nursing his aching shoulder, he watched as Rex scrutinise the stubborn door. The man stepped closer, pressing his palm against it before sliding his fingers along the edge where it should have opened, testing it quietly.
Hunched over slightly, one arm still wrapped protectively around his shoulder, Hugin watched for a moment before he could no longer resist. "You know," he said, adopting a distinctly instructive tone, "if you need it, I could fetch someone to help us."
Captain Kaboom would certainly get this door open— Cutting the thought short, Hugin got the distinct feeling the girl would quite happily blow the entire roof off with one of her violent little trinkets to simply get it open.
His expression flattened. Perhaps not her… but—
"I know Argos has a way with jammed doors," he offered instead, to which Rex replied without hesitation.
"No need." He said in an even tone.
Hugin watched slightly bewildered as he took two measured steps back, never once taking his eyes off the door. Planting his left foot firmly against the stone, Rex settled into what appeared to be a certain stance.
"Though, if you'd like," Rex added, "you're more than welcome to leave and fetch yourself a drink from him instead."
Hugin frowned. Was Rex seriously implying he'd rather wander off for a drink than find someone who could actually help?
He opened his mouth to retort—
Bang!
Only for Rex's mid-round kick to slam into the old iron door.
The impact thundered through Hugin’s ears as the hinges gave way, sending the heavy door flying inwards. It slammed against the wall with a deafening clang that echoed around them.
Hugin froze. His mouth hung slightly open as he stared through the now-open doorway at the endless stretch of blue sky, a cool breeze drifting lazily through the entrance. At the sound of footsteps, Hugin’s eyes snapped towards Rex, who had already begun walking towards the doorway, his gaze never once turning back.
Catching the subtle shake of Rex’s right leg before it firmly settled against the stone, Hugin was about to ask if Rex was alright, but the question died before it could leave his lips as Rex spoke, continuing as though nothing had happened. "But personally, I intend to finish this case as quickly as possible, Detective."
Hugin watched in bewilderment as Rex stepped fully onto the roof, his gaze sweeping across the surroundings with practised precision. The surprise lasted only a heartbeat before the meaning of Rex's words caught up with him and his expression hardened. Straightening, Hugin briskly strode after the man.
As Rex turned left, clearly intending to inspect that side of the rooftop, Hugin moved first. He cut across his path and planted himself squarely in front of him, making Rex halt and look up from beneath the brim of his cap — his single visible eye, glared at him with the brilliant carmine, meeting Hugin's stare with an unmistakable challenge and daring him to stay in his way one second longer.
Hugin only squared his shoulders further. Narrowing his eyes, he leaned forward slightly, doing his utmost not to force the words through clenched teeth. "Last I checked, Superintendent, this is my private investigation. You have no legal authority to be here." He pointed a finger at Rex's chest.
Without so much as breaking eye contact, Rex stepped into it, allowing Hugin's finger to press against the leather of his uniform. The brims of their hats hovered mere centimetres apart, and that solitary crimson eye held Hugin rooted where he stood, where Hugin could only wonder what his own glowering stare looked like in return.
"And it would have remained your private investigation if you hadn't told that woman the Navy, and, by extension, the Constabulary, would be involved." The words came slowly and deliberately, each one forced out through gritted teeth.
The realisation behind them struck Hugin, making his eyes widen before his gaze drifted upwards, fixing somewhere beyond the brim of Rex’s cap. Ah, shit... I did say that, didn’t I?
Too many things had fallen neatly into place back in Eliza's flat, and he'd followed what had seemed the most sensible course without considering that bringing the Navy into the matter would inevitably entangle them in the investigation. At the time, the words he spoken had simply felt... right.
Hell. The curse echoed through Hugin’s mind as Rex stepped back, no doubt having noticed the dawning realisation on his face where the sharp intensity in Rex’s eyes eased into something calmer, more measured. Folding his arms across his chest, he took Hugin’s silence as permission to continue pressing his point. "Now the success or failure of this case reflects on us just as much as it does on you," he explained. "And I refuse to let the Navy’s reputation be tarnished over something as insubstantial as a supposed haunting, or to damage the Constabulary’s already fragile reputation even further."
With quiet resolve, Rex stepped past him while Hugin remained where he was, motionless.
The words unearthed an uncomfortable possibility he wasn't quite sure how to react to. Since Munin's death, trust had become painfully difficult to give, whereas only recently had he begun making a genuine effort to change that.
Yet when it came to investigations, he'd always trusted absolutely. The moment someone proved themselves competent enough to earn his respect, Hugin placed complete faith in them.
He had simply assumed that trust would be returned by everyone.
With the realisation settling heavily in his chest, Hugin turned only halfway, watching Rex's retreating figure until the man paused at Hugin’s voice.
"Don't you trust me— ?" Hugin asked swallowing the rest down. He had intended the question to sound clever, perhaps even playful. But instead, it came out quiet, with an undertone of disappointment.
...Rex?