Chapter 62
"Traces that were once blurred have begun to show a clearer direction.
A puzzle that once seemed impossible to solve has started to reveal its pieces one by one.
But before we proceed any further, before we draw conclusions that may shock many, there are several matters we need to ask the Commander.
Several questions that can only be answered by someone with experience and knowledge such as yours.
Several pieces of the puzzle that can only be completed by a man who has spent half his life upon a ship's deck, crossing the same seas that Étienne d'Arques may once have sailed before meeting his end."
Arya paused for a moment, allowing his words to settle in the air.
Then he added in a slightly lower, more serious tone.
"We hope the Commander is willing to spare some time to answer our questions, because your answers may become the key that opens the final door in this investigation."
Konstantinos Dalassenos was still standing near the window when Nirma and Arya began to speak.
His posture, which had once been relaxed, slowly shifted into something more tense, though not tense with fear, but with curiosity, for he did not yet understand what the young pair intended to say.
Nirma placed her wine cup upon the small table beside her chair.
Then she looked at Konstantinos with a gaze that could not be interpreted as either a threat or a plea, but rather as a declaration that the moment of truth had arrived.
Arya, at her side, moved slowly.
He opened the small bag he always carried wherever he went.
From within it, he took out two objects wrapped in white linen cloth, two objects that would dramatically alter the direction of this conversation.
"Commander Konstantinos," Nirma's voice broke the silence that had suddenly grown heavy, "in the past few hours, we have visited six different places.
A kapeleion in Constantinople, where Étienne d'Arques was found murdered.
The Mangana Palace, where Emperor Alexios spends much of his time.
The warehouses of the Theodosian Harbor, where merchant ships from all over the world dock.
The alchemical workshop of an old Greek physician, which stores various potions and poisons.
A monastery in the hills, where monks pray day and night.
And the Latin soldiers' lodging house, where the crusaders spend their final nights before departing for Jerusalem."
Arya unfolded the first linen cloth, revealing a small pouch of black soil that still carried the distinct scent of the harbor, the smell of salt mixed with mud and something warm like volcanic ash.
"From the twenty pieces of evidence we have gathered, Commander, three of them directly point to you.
Not as an accusation, but as an indication that you may know something others do not."
He placed the pouch of soil on the table.
Then he opened the second linen cloth, revealing a wine glass with an oily stain along its rim, a strange stain because it was not an ordinary wine mark, but one that still carried a faint aroma of olive oil.
"The first piece of evidence is fragments of harbor soil found on the victim's shoes.
Black earth mixed with volcanic sand, a composition identical to the soil in the western section of the Theodosian Harbor.
Not the eastern section where Venetian merchant ships dock.
Not the southern section where Pisan vessels anchor.
But the western section, where ships belonging to the Dalassenos family usually berth.
At the kapeleion, we found traces suggesting that shortly before his death, the victim had been somewhere, left, and then returned again.
And we know, Commander, that you often hold meetings in the harbor warehouses at dawn, do you not?
Meetings with whom?
No one knows for certain.
But the soil on the victim's shoes tells us that he had been there, at the same place, on that same morning."
Nirma took over, her slender fingers pointing toward the wine glass Arya had placed upon the table.
"The second piece of evidence is this glass, Commander.
The wine glass we found at the kapeleion, right beside the table where Étienne d'Arques was discovered dead.
The stain on its rim is not from ordinary wine, because the wine served at the kapeleion is cheap, sold to lower-class soldiers and sailors.
This stain comes from wine mixed with olive oil, a highly distinctive drinking habit, a habit possessed only by certain sailors. Dalassenos sailors."
She paused for a moment, letting her words settle.
Then she continued in the same tone, neither accusing nor hesitant.
"Arya examined this glass carefully and found a faint fingerprint upon its surface.
Not a bare fingerprint, but the imprint of a sea-leather glove, the kind worn by sailors who wrestle daily with ropes and oars.
The same gloves that hang from the belts of your nautai outside.
The victim drank with someone shortly before he died, Commander.
He drank with someone accustomed to mixing wine with olive oil.
Someone who wore sea-leather gloves.
Who else possesses such habits and equipment, if not men like you and your sailors?"
Konstantinos Dalassenos remained silent, rigid as stone.
His hardened face revealed no easily readable expression.
Yet the muscles along his jaw tightened, a physical reaction he could not fully conceal.
Nirma and Arya exchanged a glance.
Then Arya unfolded a third linen cloth, which he had concealed behind the other two, revealing an old document written on parchment, a warehouse record from the Theodosian Harbor still marked with oil stains and fold lines.
"The third piece of evidence is the most interesting, Commander," Arya said in a slightly lower, more cautious tone, as though he were holding something extremely fragile.
"The Theodosian Harbor warehouse is missing one small amphora.
One small amphora labeled 'xylon tes zoes,' the wood of life, the alchemists' term for creosote, a slow-burning pine resin.
According to the warehouse records, that amphora was ordered by someone under the name Commander Dalassenos one week before the death of Étienne d'Arques.
Ordered. Collected. And never returned.
Usually, such amphorae are borrowed, used, and returned within three days.
But this one never came back.
The Prefect's soldiers assigned to guard the Theodosian Harbor testified that they saw a man in a Dalassenos sailor's uniform take the amphora that morning, carrying it away on a small cart. After that, no one knows where it went."
The room suddenly felt quieter than before.
Only the distant sound of waves and the occasional creaking of old wood could be heard when the sea wind blew harder.
Nirma looked at Konstantinos Dalassenos with an inescapable gaze, a gaze that suggested she knew more than she revealed, that she had assembled this puzzle piece by piece and was now waiting only for the final fragment to be placed.
"Commander," Nirma's voice emerged softer than before, yet that very softness made it more threatening, "we know that the Dalassenos family is a formidable rival to the Komnenos family in the struggle for influence within the Empire. We know that you may have reasons to oppose certain cooperation between the Emperor and the crusaders. And we also know that Étienne d'Arques, before his death, was allegedly involved in negotiations with a papal envoy. Negotiations concerning an Italian fleet that would support the crusaders. If those negotiations succeeded, if the Italian fleet truly arrived in full strength, then your position as the strongest maritime power in Constantinople would be threatened. The Italian fleet would take over trade routes. It would diminish your influence. It would cause the name Dalassenos to sink beneath the shadow of the Komnenos, who would in turn be fully backed by the Pope. The question now, Commander, is not whether you had a motive, because that motive stands plainly before us. The question is, what truly happened in the harbor warehouse at dawn that morning? What did you discuss with Étienne d'Arques? And most importantly, where is that small amphora of creosote now?"
To be continued…