Chapter seventeen: The steampowered envelope

Trigger warnings for those who need them

No trigger warnings.

“Okay so up the steps right?” Xuiyo asks as he looks around.
“No no, we need to go under the bridge and take the next one”
“But the address says we need to take the green steps.”
“Yes but the address also says Qili street, that’s up ahead.” I point to the bridge that divides the harbor and the edge-city “Trust me, I’ve been in this section before.”
Xuiyo squints in my direction for a moment, then gives up and relents “Lead the way.”
On the other side of the bridge I point at the pair of identical-looking green steps.
“Why is this city like this?” Xuiyo throws up his arms.
“I think these stairs were once part of the same building. Before they got subdivided and new buildings got built on top of them.”
“That must have been one hell of a building.”
“That’s exactly why they chopped it up. But this is the correct set of steps and then we need to follow the steam pipes until we get to the steampowered envelope which has a tower with a steamship landing pad.”
“I take it that’s that one then?” Xuiyo asks while pointing a massive white chalk-covered tower with copper piping snaking around it like veins.
“Yup, that seems right.”
“And you think that Tashi fellow will be here?” Xuiyo asks.
“I hope he will. But if not, I can at least ask around and hopefully figure out more.”
“So what if he’s in there and immediately runs away?”
“Well, that’s where you come in. I want you to stop him if he does.”
“Uhu.”
“Without using the gun of course, I wouldn’t want to accidentally have him shot.”
He rolls his eyes at me. “I’m not an idiot.”
“I- uh, I didn’t mean it like that.” I add quickly.
He huffs, then takes up station in a small nook overcast by the building above.
And just like that, I find it hard to see him. I know he’s still there but if I didn’t then I would have walked past him being none the wiser.
It have no idea how he does that.
But it’s very useful.
I walk to the door of the establishment and peek through the stained-glass window that’s adorably enough shaped like an envelope. I expected to instantly recognize some faces from my investigation. Maybe some background dancers or the illusive Tashi himself. But it turns out that performers look a lot different when they’re not on a stage.
Inside the bar the atmosphere is lively but not as loud as I expected.
People are sipping tea and chatting, telling jokes and sharing stories.
And then I find Tashi.
His voice, rather than his face.
I recognize it from the tapes.
He’s sat with a handful of other people but instead of speaking Charan they’re having their conversation in Jigani.
I know it’s not polite to eavesdrop.
But for the sake of solving a murder? I think that’s just part of my duties as detective.
I sit down on a vacant chair which isn’t directly next to them but just far enough that I can pick up snippets without looking like I’m trying to.
“I just wish mister Craig would pick a play and stick to it. I know he’s still looking for dancers but vignettes are tough to remember and boring to do. I just want to go back to business as usual.” an unknown dancer tells the others. Another nods. “Is it just me or does this week feel like the longest week of your entire life? It’s just…so much has changed in such a short time I just cannot fathom that things will be ‘normal’ again.”
A man with a red striped shirt and a mighty moustache steps up to me. “What can I get you love?”
“Oh, just a cup of tea will do.”
He laughs. “Tea menu’s on the wall, the ones with asterisks are spiked. I have qjata if you’re sure you want ‘just a cup of tea’. But when you’re in the steampowered envelope it’s good to expand your horizons a bit.”
“Right, uh thank you for the advice.” I nod awkwardly.
“I’ll give you another minute to decide.” The man then turns to another customer and upon hearing the request starts pulling out bottles and flinging them around the bar. Pouring and shaking before straining out pale blue liquid with a bit of a milky shade to it. It looks quite unappetising.
I don’t even think that counts as tea.
But instead of giving the cup to the customer just yet he pulls out a tin of tea leaves, loads them up into this brass and copper machine and pulls a handle.
The angry whistle of a kettle screeches through the bar and the bartender quickly puts the cup underneath the spout where a dark red tea violently erupts from the contraption and escapes into the cup amids a cloud of steam.
Mixing with the blue contents of the drink already inside it mellows out into a berry purple that doesn’t actually look all that bad.
I wonder which one that’s supposed to be.
I look back at the list.
The names of the drinks are random and nondescriptive with titles like ‘a walk in the snark’ and ‘a good hearty smack in the face’.
They’re interesting…
But not very useful.
“Made a choice?” the bartender asks as he makes his way towards me again.
“I uh, I have no idea what’s in each of these.”
He nods, humming knowingly “What’s your favourite flavour?”
“Chocolate.”
“Good, anything you really don’t want to have in there?”
“Alcohol oh and lavender.”
He chuckles “I bet you’re Cygnian then.”
“I am yes.” Although I’d hardly describe myself as one in polite conversation.
He hums knowingly. “All right then, I think I know something you’ll like.” And then just like that he walks off to do who-knows-what to my drink.
I don’t even know how much this will cost me.
This seems to be a pretty fancy place from the looks of it.
“I miss Darren. He didn’t talk much but he was reliable and sort of calming. I don’t know, I think it was that Madricorian spiritual vibe. When I was struggling with the monk he said I’d get it I just sort of believed him. And then when I tried it again I just got it.”“Maybe the guy was just magic.”
“Maybe.”
Madricord is the continent with the mountains and the forests where it’s winter half the year I believe?
I guess people really do come from all over here.
“There you go miss. A cup of ‘leave me alone, I’m reading’” The bartender sets down a steaming hot cup in front of me and I marvel at the little gold sparkles floating among the almost black-ish drink. A slice of lemon is set aside on the saucer I pick it up.
“Try it without the lemon first.” The bartender insists.
“Uh, okay.” I pick up the cup and get attacked by aromatics that smell warm, maybe a little bit spiced, but then I take a sip and it tastes surprisingly creamy and rich.
It doesn’t taste like chocolate.
But it does taste like how chocolate would taste if it were tea instead.
“What so you think?”
“It’s good, how much do I owe you.”
“One and a fourth”
It’s expensive for a cup of tea but not nearly as expensive as I expected it to be considering the presentation. I pull out my father’s wallet and dig the fee out from among the different currencies.”
His eyes lower to my hands “You have chui?”
“Oh yes. I uh, was on holiday in Jaobai a couple weeks back. I just haven’t found the time to exhange the money back yet.”
“I’ll give you a discount if you pay me in that rather than copper, how does 3 chui sound to you?”
“Sounds good to me.” I hand off the money feeling only a bit puzzled at this sudden change of events.
“Thank you. I collect currencies from around the world but considering the whole war and occupation thing I don’t often see people carrying chui outside of Jaobai anymore.”
“Why not just go to the exchange office? They have chui over there right?”
He chuckles “There’s no fun in that. That’s like telling a stamp collector to just go to the post office. A stamp that has travelled the world is far more interesting. The journey matters.”
“I see. Well, if I run into weird currency later on I’ll be sure to spend it here mister…”
“Mellius Pickwick at your service.”
“Alice Chatman, detective.” The words roll off my lips before I can catch myself and just like that I blew my cover.
Nausea climbs up my throat as besides me Tashi says “I’m gonna head out.”
“Already? It’s only ten.”
“Yeah, but I’m tired.” The man says as he gets up and picks his coat from the back of his chair.
Dammit!
I didn’t even eavesdrop that well, I got distracted by tea.
I get up “Hello Tashi, I’d like to talk to you-“
“Sorry, I’m just about to leave.”
“I can see that but-“
“That means I don’t want to talk right now.”
“But it’s about the murder of Darren Johnasson and Donna Gerris. Don’t you want their killer caught?”
He stops dead in his tracks “I told the police what I know, go bother them about it if that makes you happy but I don’t want to talk to you.”
I lower my voice. “I already listened to the tapes and I know you’re lying about the murdered leaving through the artist entrance. I also puzzled together the little note in your perfume box.”
His eyes widen a grimace pulls onto his face “You took it?”
“You can have it back of course. I would have left it if you hadn’t stuck Barnaby on me. But it did give me a lot of questions. Like why you kept a gift that was meant for Donna instead?”
Tashi’s face pales, he opens his mouth as if about to say something.
Then he pushes me aside suddenly.
Tells me “You can keep it”
And bolts for the door.
I wish I finished my tea first.
I rush after him diving through the patrons and trying my best not to make a fool of myself as this guy is both fast and agile. Some of the guests even try to catch him. Possibly unsure why, but curious for answers. But as they reach out they find their hands empty and the man already passed by.
The door opens but I’m only halfway there.
Running.
I should run more.
My condition is horrendous.
I make the mental note of it, then tumble out the door and find…
No one.
Tashi is gone.
Xuiyo is nowhere to be seen.
I check the shadows but it looks like he’s either still chasing him or something else happened entirely.
I find a ladder precariously nailed to the side of the tower and no warning signs so I clamber up for a higher vantage point.
Maybe I can see them.
Oh!
There’s Xuiyo!
By himself…
I grimace to myself.
Then wipe it off my face for both our sakes.
“Xuiyo are you all right? What happened?”
He shrugs but the blood dribbling down his eyebrow worries me. “I tried to stop him, he wouldn’t listen so I tried to tackle him. It didn’t go particularly well…”
“Did he hit you?”
“Headbutt actually.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”
“I’ll live it down. Did you at least get the info you needed?”
“Well he dodged all of my questions. But he also told me a lot more than he probably intended. How about we go inside for a bit, get a wet towel on your forehead and some tea. I still left my cup inside I hope mister Pickwick didn’t throw it away yet.”
“Mister Pickwick?”
“I think I made a new friend.”
He huffs, but it’s the amused huff that secretly means he’s proud of me.
“All right, let’s go.”