A shot rang out through the darkness. Snow came down heavily across the sky and Pelleas and Bula were hunched behind a broken pillar and a busted door, respectively. The arcane bullets that were fired out of the assailant's gun sparked and crackled where they hit their surroundings, and Bula switched her ammo type to be ice instead of fire.
Sometimes, Bula hated working in the snow. Other times, like now, she was grateful for the bad aim that it seemed to bring upon the battlefield. She scanned their surroundings again and saw in the nick of time the glint of a gun pointing at Pelleas. She tackled them to the ground, rolling sideways – just in time for the lightning bullet to strike where they were crouched. Pelleas coughed and wheezed, but gave their partner a thumbs up to indicate their gratefulness.
"No time to thank me," Bula said quickly, standing up and nodding towards another hiding spot, "Get to cover. NOW."
Pelleas ducked and rolled over to the other hiding spot behind a sturdier pillar and Bula took aim. She watched for the glint in the snowstorm, and when it happened, she fired first. The bullet thundered across the landscape and a scream soon followed. The crackle of ice shifting and breaking meant that they had to move, and quickly.
Bula thundered up the stairs and found the assailant trying to break the ice crystals that had formed on his wound. He scrambled for his gun but she kicked it out of the way and stood on his wrist. "IPD! Stay where you are!" She barked, "Pelleas!"
Pelleas ran into the room and handcuffed the assailant as the ice began to melt, leaving behind a jagged wound on the man's shoulder. He was a tall elf with long ears and a mess of blonde hair. A few scars were on his face, and he had a full beard. His name was Aleksandr Zhenka and they'd been tracking him down for a while. He struggled against the handcuffs, but eventually, Bula pulled him up by the collar.
"Call for the medics," Bula said as she wiped sweat from her brow. "Get them here for some assistance before we interrogate him."
Zhenka sat in the police carriage and glared at the two. Pelleas gave Bula a hot drink as they got into the front in order to drive it to the station. The crystal powered engine started with a jingle and the two of them were back at headquarters soon enough.
The field medic treated Zhenka's wound as he sat in the interrogation room. Pelleas looked him over; From his mess of blonde, unbrushed hair and the tattoo on his wrist in the shape of a spider climbing over a diamond, there was no debating that they had the man they'd been searching for. Which meant: He wasn't going to talk. Not easily.
Pelleas sipped their water before they walked into the interrogation room. Zhenka's wrists strained against the handcuffs.
"Easy." Pelleas said softly, "Your lawyer isn't here yet. Let's just talk."
"I don't have anything to say to you," Zhenka said, "Not without my legal representative." His eyes glanced about the interrogation room, and Pelleas slid into the seat across from him. They leaned back, before taking a pen out of their pocket and a piece of paper to go with it from a notebook they kept.
"See, I thought you'd say that." Pelleas admitted as the medic left the room, "So just tell me earnestly, do you or do you not work for the Council of Iron? The tattoo on your left wrist," They tapped their own with the pen, "Tells me that you're a high-ranking member."
Zhenka kept quiet, much to Pelleas' disdain.
"The spider with the black widow markings means you're one of their best executioners, right? And the diamond … that rank means you have at least 10 or more successful poisons. So," Pelleas' eyes were cold as they regarded the criminal before them. "Either way, you are, if you'll pardon my language: Screwed."
Zhenka's brow furrowed. He could wait until his lawyer arrived, but Pelleas was correct.
"I have fifteen," the man admitted after a moment of silence sat between them. "But they've all been scum. Filth. People who don't deserve the air they're breathing."
Pelleas kept their gaze even. "Names?"
As Zhenka began to list them, Bula watched from behind the tinted glass. They were good at getting people to spill their secrets. With Zhenka off the streets tonight, the Council of Iron would have lost one of its core members. She could breathe a little easier, but not without wondering who would replace Aleksandr Zhenka. There were no doubt more of them out there, operating in the shadows. She went to take a sip of her coffee when her arcane communicator buzzed, and she saw that it was because of a message from Madalina.
'Dear miss Bula,' Began Madalina Chantilly's message, 'Thank you again for allowing me peace of mind while I go through this life-altering change. I was wondering if we could meet up again to discuss the things I've been doing in order to uncover the mystery of my parents' death and the fire.'
'At your leisure, Madalina C.'
Bula tapped on the glass to get Pelleas' attention and as they left Zhenka to another detective for interrogation, she showed them the message.
"She's doing her own work," Bula said with a grunt, "I'm going to tell her to meet us for dinner at the precinct."
"That sounds good." Pelleas wrung their hands, "Thanks for telling me."
"You don't think that –" Bula began to say,
" – Did the Council of Iron have anything to do with it?" Pelleas finished her sentence, pacing back and forth in front of the glass. "I don't know. That's the suspicious part. If they did, they'd need a better motive than just killing all 3 of them. They'd want power. Money. Why leave Madalina alive? It would be easier to kill her."
"But she's alive," Bula stated simply. "Whoever did this was sloppy. Not like Zhenka. Maybe a new recruit? Someone who doesn't know what they're doing yet. I have a feeling that the fishbowl is only gonna get deeper while we keep looking into this fire."
"I think you're right, partner." Pelleas nodded, "We don't have much of a motive, nor do we have many suspects. It is by all accounts, a cold case."
"Then let's hope that Madalina Chantilly can shed some light on the issue for us."
They broke apart then – Bula went back to her desk to file the paperwork, and Pelleas went back to talk to the other detectives about Aleksandr Zhenka. They'd been tracking him down for a long time, at least six years.
Could the Council be involved in this? Bula thought and thought about that statement, trying to see if she could draw any conclusions or any concrete evidence. The council was run by a mystery woman, known only by her title of The Widow. The mother of spiders, whose name the others dared not utter for fear that she would strike them down.
The Widow would have punished whoever did it sloppily, if that was the case. Which meant …
"I'm going out," She nodded to Pelleas across the room, "Gotta check on something."
"Be careful out there," Pelleas called after her, watching Bula's retreating figure.
The snow began to twist and howl across Icegrowth's streets, and Pelleas prepared to hear what Madalina had uncovered with Vianola's help. Whatever it was, Pelleas secretly hoped that it'd be a concrete lead. They didn't know if it was a freak accident like the helpers were claiming, or if it was a planned one.
The door jingled. Madalina and Vianola had arrived.
Now they just had to hear what they had to say.