A Light in the Darkness Book: The Moonlight Murderer

Chapter Forty-Four: What You are in the Dark: Part II

            The sound of the old man's cackling echoed in Jan's ears after he suggested there may be hidden danger inside the house. After minutes of enduring this, he grew annoyed.

"Are you done Bill?" he asked as the elderly murderer started to calm down. "Will you be so kind as to share why the thought of an invisible homicidal maniac in your home is so hilarious."

"Still slow on the uptake I see," he replied. "You think they'd waste their time hiding in my home just to spy on me and scare my dog? Even if they did want in, they couldn't."

Once again Jan's patience was vexed the cryptic response. "Will you speak in plain language old man? How can you be sure they didn't sneak into your home? The place has been burglarized before. I distinctly remember you telling me about it."

Bill grinned. An unsettling sight. "I know it's hard for you, but stop being an imbecile for just a moment," he said. "The reason the house is safe is because it's warded against that kind of magic. My grandfather built this place. He was a rather superstitious and paranoid man with some connections to the lunar cults. The very foundations of this home were carved with runes meant to shield it from hostile magic. Before you ask, yes, I tested it, and no I won't tell you how."

Jan felt around his pocket for the very magical gem he still had. It was there, giving off a faint heating sensation.

"Are you sure this rune system is infallible?" he asked carefully.

"Nothing is infallible, but I'm confident the only murderer in the house is me, if that's what you're worried about," Bill grumbled.

"Oh, I feel so relieved now. Your soothing presence fills me with peace," Jan drawled sarcastically. The old man rapped his cane on the table, give Jan a chill of fear down his spine.

"I believe we still had business to discuss. Given my advanced age it nearly slipped my mind, but you just reminded me. I still need help finding the scum who burglarized my house."

Instantly searching for a distraction from uncomfortable topic, Jan remembered the ring on the old man's hand. "That's a lovely piece of jewelry. Wherever did you get it?"

If there was one thing, he knew about Bill aside from his penchant for hurting people, it was his love of talking. Maybe it was ego or older people just enjoyed story telling but he knew the old man wouldn't resist spinning another yarn. He wasn't disappointed.

"Why, this old thing? It belonged to my wife," he said. "They custom make these for the upper crust of the Imperial Legion. It's one of the few sentimentalities I allow myself."

"How did you two first meet?" he leaned forward, genuinely interested now.

Bill refilled Jan's teacup and rambled off into another story about his days as a caravan guard. How they camped by a group of legionaries one night and after several rounds of sparring between the two groups, she was only one to beat him in a fight. This preceded several more run-ins and an eventual courtship which resulted in marriage. His parents died, they moved back to city to manage the family company and had a child. The he got into how he'd killed someone over a business dispute which led to more murders. At this point Jan stopped paying attention.

Bill snapped his fingers to break his daze. "Ah, yes, lovely story," he sputtered. "Truly, these are memories, I'll treasure decades from now when you're in an urn somewhere."

His host scowled for a moment before returning to a more neutral expression. "How do you know you've got decades? I could've poisoned the tea or cakes you were eating."