Chapter 74: The Simplest Lie
Silence continued to hang over the study after Ravian’s answer, while Shmichael’s and Larette’s gazes shifted between him and Earl Patrick.
The earl continued staring at the servant who had delivered the news, nothing in his expression betraying his thoughts.
"Send him in," Patrick finally ordered.
The servant bowed and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
Only a few moments passed before the earl turned toward Ravian. Leaning back in his seat, he tapped one finger against the papers they had been discussing mere minutes earlier.
"Is there anything I should know before this detective walks into my study?" Patrick asked, fixing his dark-blue eyes on him.
Ravian’s gaze slid toward the door through which the servant had departed before returning to Earl Patrick with studied calm.
"Not much," Ravian answered after a brief moment of thought. "But I don’t know exactly which part of it he’s come to ask about."
"You said it was only a misunderstanding." Shmichael’s brows knitted.
"It was." Ravian nodded.
"And detectives chased you all the way to our mansion over a misunderstanding?" Larette asked. For the first time, her tone suggested she was beginning to doubt what Ravian had been doing.
"He’s a rather diligent detective," Ravian said. His eyes remained calm, though they carried an undeniable coldness. "I can’t blame the man for loving his work."
Shmichael stared at him in silence before releasing a slow breath.
"What in the Creator’s name happened to you, exactly?" Shmichael asked.
"I was looking for a tavern and somewhere to spend the night. While I was there, some man died, Robert arrived, several crimes connected to the tavern were uncovered, and then he spoke with me for a while."
"Some man died?" Larette’s eyes widened.
"Note that I didn’t say I killed him," Ravian emphasized.
"But I also note that you haven’t said you didn’t kill him," Shmichael countered, his gaze growing sharper.
Ravian turned toward him with a frown.
"Man, you’re exactly like him—and even that mustache you two share... Are you brothers, by any chance?" Ravian asked, noticing the similarity between Shmichael’s manner of speaking and the detective’s.
Shmichael looked as though he had suffered a nervous shock, but before he could respond, another knock came from the door.
Nearly everyone straightened where they stood—except Patrick and Ravian, who remained seated exactly as they were, though the smile on Ravian’s face dimmed slightly.
’Damn it!’
’He wasn’t content with sending someone to watch me. He came himself.’
Ravian might have appeared calm, but all of it was a mask he couldn’t afford to drop anytime soon. Otherwise, there was no telling how things would end for him.
Robert appearing here so soon after Ravian’s own arrival meant the detective had discovered something worth directly confronting an earl as influential as Patrick over.
"Enter," Patrick called in response to the knock.
The door opened, and Robert stepped inside, followed by the younger detective who had accompanied him at the tavern.
Robert wore the same long brown coat, its numerous pockets holding his small investigative tools, while his pipe rested between the fingers of his right hand. His brown hair was neatly kept, as was his short mustache, and nothing in his expression suggested that he had spent most of the night working.
He swept his hazel eyes across the room, pausing briefly on Larette and Shmichael before they settled on Ravian.
A small smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
"Good morning, Mr. Rayan. It seems you were honest about where I could find you."
"Detective, sir, I’m starting to think you missed me. It’s only been a few hours since we parted, and here you are, visiting me in person," Ravian replied with a far more welcoming smile.
The younger detective stood beside Robert with his notebook in hand, staring at Ravian as though trying to determine how much courage—or madness—it took to address Robert that way.
Robert’s smile remained unchanged.
"I wanted to make sure you’d found somewhere to spend the night."
"That’s terribly kind of you. I slept well, if it’s been weighing on your mind," Ravian replied.
"Glad to hear it."
The two men exchanged smiles, though neither looked truly happy to see the other.
Robert raised his pipe to his lips and took a slow draw before lowering it again. He then turned toward the room’s owner and bowed to the degree befitting an earl’s station.
"My apologies for arriving without an appointment, Earl Patrick. I wouldn’t have interrupted your meeting if the matter weren’t connected to an open investigation," Robert said, showing the appropriate respect.
Patrick, however, didn’t invite him to sit.
The earl remained behind his desk, his fingers interlaced before him as the chandelier’s light glinted off the black ring on his hand.
"You’ve already interrupted the meeting, Detective, so you can spare us the apology and tell me why you’re here."
Robert remained unmoved by the cold reception.
"The matter concerns Mr. Rayan Veyr."
"My servant already informed me of that. But what does Rayan have to do with your investigation?"
Robert cast a brief glance toward Ravian before answering.
"I met him last night inside a tavern where a mysterious death occurred—alongside the discovery of an illegal fighting and betting ring in which members of the Rassasian race were forced to fight to the death."
The earl’s eyes shifted toward Ravian.
"You spent your first night in the capital in a place like that?"
"I didn’t know about the fighting ring when I entered," Ravian answered calmly. "I was looking for somewhere to eat and rest for a while."
’And I tried to use a young lady to secure a free place to spend the night. Now here I am, facing the consequences of my actions.’
Ravian was replaying everything he had done when the earl interrupted his thoughts again.
"And did you get the rest you wanted?" Patrick asked, a pointed look in his eyes.
’He’s asking whether I actually slept there.’
Ravian caught the implication immediately.
"I got a headache and an obsessive detective instead," he replied.
The corner of Larette’s mouth twitched, but she concealed her reaction when her father glanced at her.
Patrick returned his attention to Robert.
"You said a man died. Is Rayan accused of killing him?"
"As of yet, we have no physical evidence proving that Mr. Rayan killed him," Robert clarified, his eyes never leaving Ravian’s face. "But the deceased collapsed near him, and we found no wound on his body, no poison, and no clear trace of soul energy that could explain his death. When I asked Mr. Rayan directly whether he was responsible, he refused to answer."
A brief silence descended upon the room.
Shmichael slowly looked toward Ravian, while Larette’s fingers tightened around the back of the chair beside her.
Ravian maintained his calm smile.
’Fu*ck you, Robert.’ That was the only thought running through his mind at that moment.
Nevertheless, he answered.
"A refusal isn’t a confession, Detective, sir. I’ve already explained that to you."
"And I never said it was a confession," Robert replied. "I said it gave me a reason to continue investigating."
The earl tapped one finger against the surface of his desk.
"If you have no evidence, then I see nothing that justifies your coming to my mansion."
"If the matter concerned the death alone, I would have asked Mr. Rayan to come to the Investigations Department headquarters at a later time," Robert said. "But another problem surfaced this morning."
Patrick’s finger stopped moving—and Ravian’s breath caught for an instant along with it.
’So he found enough to bring him here in person. That part is somewhat unexpected.’
Ravian felt Robert’s gaze sharpen, and he knew the detective had finally reached the true reason for his visit.
"Mr. Rayan told me that he arrived in the capital yesterday," Robert continued. "So I requested a review of the records from every gate in the capital, beginning at the start of that day and ending at the time he appeared in the tavern."
Ravian kept his expression steady, but his mind began working at full speed.
’Just as I expected. He checked the gates. But there may still be another thread I know nothing about leading back to me.’
Ravian’s eyes grew colder.
Robert had begun with the simplest of Ravian’s lies to verify.
"We found no one by the name of Rayan Veyr," the detective said, then added after taking a draw from his pipe, "and no young man matching his description either. No long white hair, no crimson eyes, and no traveler of his age who entered under a different name."
Larette looked toward Ravian, and this time she could hide neither her shock nor her growing concern.
Even Shmichael, who had maintained his composure since Robert’s arrival, knitted his brows slightly.
Earl Patrick, however, continued looking at the detective.
"Did you question the gate guards themselves, or did you settle for examining the ledgers?"
"My men spoke with everyone who was on duty. We reviewed the caravans, the merchants’ wagons, and the groups that entered that day. No one saw anyone matching his description."
Robert removed the pipe from his mouth, then stepped a single pace closer to the desk.
"In simpler terms, Earl Patrick... Mr. Rayan never entered the capital through any official gate."
Everyone’s eyes turned toward Ravian.
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