Pg. 10 A Peculiar Detail
Henry's mind raced, the image of the antique ebony king with its flawed base burned into his memory. He returned to the Felinchi manor, a renewed sense of urgency propelling him. He found Officer Davies still overseeing the more thorough search of the study.
"Davies," Henry began, his voice low but intense, "did your team find anything… unusual? Anything that might seem out of place, even if it doesn't immediately appear significant?"
Davies, looking weary but diligent, consulted his notes. "We found a few things, sir. A broken quill near the desk, some faint scuff marks on the rug that don't quite match the furniture, and… this." He held up a small, clear glass vial, stoppered with a cork. It contained a few drops of a viscous, dark liquid.
Henry took the vial carefully, holding it up to the light filtering through the drawn curtains. "What do you make of this?"
"No label, no markings. One of the forensics team thinks it might be some kind of specialized ink, but they'll need to run tests."
Henry's gaze flickered to the ink stain on the document. "Where was this found?"
"Tucked away in a drawer of the desk, beneath a stack of ledgers."
A thought struck Henry. "Davies, when you examined the overturned chessboard, did you notice anything about the square where the black king would have been?"
Davies frowned, trying to recall. "Just the usual markings on the board, sir. Why?"
"Look closely," Henry urged. He knelt beside the chessboard, pointing to the specific square. "Is there anything… different about this square compared to the others? Any residue, any faint scratch?"
Davies leaned in, his eyes narrowed in concentration. After a moment, he said slowly, "Now that you mention it… there's a very faint, almost circular impression here. Smaller than the base of a regular chess piece."
Henry's breath hitched. "Could it match the base of a smaller, perhaps antique, king?"
Davies looked up, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. "It's possible, sir."
"Davies, I need that vial analyzed immediately. And I need you to send someone to that antique shop I mentioned. See if they can get a detailed description of that ebony king Lord Felinchi purchased, and if possible, a photograph or sketch."
Later that day, Henry found himself back at police headquarters, this time requesting a meeting with Chief Stacy. The chief greeted him with a curt nod, his earlier cordiality seemingly replaced by a guarded reserve.
"Mr. Allen," Stacy said, his voice flat. "Davies informs me you're focusing quite intently on a missing chess piece and a vial of unknown liquid."
"They may be more significant than they appear, Chief," Henry replied calmly. "The missing black king, I believe, was an antique piece with a unique base, one that might have left an impression on a document found at the crime scene. And the vial… its contents could provide crucial clues."
Stacy leaned back in his chair, his gaze unwavering. "With all due respect, Mr. Allen, we have a clear victim and a distraught widow. Are we not perhaps overcomplicating matters?"
"Are we certain it's that simple, Chief?" Henry countered. "Lord Felinchi was acting unusually the day before his death. A mysterious woman in black visited him. And a seemingly insignificant chess piece is missing, potentially leaving a mark at a key location."
Stacy's jaw tightened slightly. "My officers are pursuing all leads, Mr. Allen. Including this 'woman in black.'"
"Have they had any luck identifying her?"
Stacy hesitated for a fraction of a second. "Not as yet. But we have descriptions out."
Henry sensed a subtle shift in the chief's demeanor, a hint of unease beneath his professional facade. "Chief," Henry continued, his voice softer now, "is there anything you're not telling me? Anything that might be relevant to this case, no matter how small it might seem?"
Stacy's eyes flickered away for a moment before returning to meet Henry's gaze. "Mr. Allen, I assure you, we are cooperating fully."
But Henry couldn't shake the feeling that Stacy knew more than he was letting on. The chief's defensiveness only strengthened Henry's suspicion that there were undercurrents in this case that ran deeper than a simple homicide.
Pg. 11 A Cryptic Note
Back at the manor, while waiting for the analysis of the vial and any information on the ebony king, Henry decided to re-examine the study himself. With Officer Davies present, he meticulously went through the scattered papers on the floor. Most were financial documents and correspondence, seemingly mundane.
However, tucked inside one of the ledgers, Henry discovered a small, folded piece of paper. It was a different texture than the other documents, thicker and cream-colored. Carefully unfolding it, he found a short, handwritten note:
The game is not over. The king will fall.
The handwriting was elegant and unfamiliar. Henry's pulse quickened. This wasn't just a random act of violence; it felt deliberate, almost theatrical. The reference to the "king" sent a chill down his spine, reinforcing the significance of the missing chess piece.
"Davies," Henry said, his voice hushed, "did your team find this note?"
Davies examined it. "No, sir. I don't recall seeing this."
Henry carefully placed the note in an evidence bag. "This changes things. This suggests a premeditated act, perhaps even a personal vendetta. The 'game'… could it refer to the chess game? Was Lord Felinchi involved in something more than just business dealings?"
He looked around the study, his gaze lingering on the overturned chessboard. The scene now seemed less like a chaotic aftermath and more like a carefully staged tableau. The scattered papers, the overturned board, the missing king – were they all pieces of a larger, more intricate puzzle?
Henry requested another meeting with Mrs. Felinchi. This time, he observed her more closely, noting the subtle nuances in her demeanor. Her grief seemed genuine, yet there were moments when her eyes held a distant, almost calculating look.
"Mrs. Felinchi," Henry began gently, "you mentioned a woman in black who visited your husband the day before his death. Did Lord Felinchi say anything about her after she left? Did he seem upset or worried?"
Mrs. Felinchi hesitated, her fingers twisting in her lap. "He… he was quiet. More so than usual. He didn't say much about her, only that it was a business matter."
"Did he mention her name?"
"No," she replied quickly, perhaps too quickly.
Henry leaned forward slightly. "Mrs. Felinchi, was your husband involved in any… risky ventures? Any dealings that might have made him enemies?"
Her eyes darted away. "David was a businessman, Mr. Allen. He had dealings, yes, but I wouldn't say he had enemies."
"Did he have any secrets from you, Mrs. Felinchi?" Henry asked softly.
A flicker of something – perhaps fear, perhaps anger – crossed her face. "Every marriage has its private moments, Mr. Allen."
Henry decided to try a different approach. "The night before… Alfred mentioned that Lord Felinchi didn't have his usual evening brandy. He also seemed preoccupied at dinner. Did you notice anything else unusual about his behavior that evening?"
Mrs. Felinchi was silent for a long moment, her gaze fixed on the floor. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "He… he received a letter that evening. After dinner. He read it in his study, alone. He seemed very agitated afterwards."
"Did you see the letter?"
She shook her head. "No. He… he burned it in the fireplace before coming to bed. He didn't say who it was from or what it said."
Henry's interest piqued. A mysterious woman in black, a secret meeting, a disturbing letter burned before his death. The pieces were slowly starting to connect, painting a picture far more complex than a simple Sunday morning tragedy.
Pg. 12 The Ink Analysis
The report from the forensics team arrived. Officer Davies handed it to Henry, his expression expectant.
"The liquid in the vial, Mr. Allen… it's a very rare type of India ink. Specifically, a formulation known to be used by… antique mapmakers and document forgers. It contains trace elements not found in modern inks."
Henry's eyes widened. Document forgers?
"And the faint impression on the document near the tea stain?" Davies continued. "The lab compared it to impressions left by various objects. They found a near-perfect match with… the base of an antique ebony chess king."
The pieces clicked into place. The missing black king wasn't just a random absence. It was connected to the ink stain, to the document, and now, potentially to forgery.
Henry thought back to the cryptic note: The game is not over. The king will fall. Was Lord Felinchi involved in some kind of illicit activity involving forged documents or maps? Had the black king been used in this activity, perhaps to mark or authenticate something? And was the woman in black somehow connected to this?
He stood up, his mind racing. "Davies, I need to go back to the antique shop. I need to know everything about that ebony king Lord Felinchi purchased. Its history, its markings, anything the proprietor can remember."
He then turned his thoughts back to Mrs. Felinchi and the burned letter. Could that letter have been related to the forgery? Had she known about her husband's activities? Her secrecy now seemed less like grief and more like… concealment.
The murder of David Felinchi was no longer a simple case. It was a complex web of secrets, lies, and a missing black king that held the key to a deadly game. And Henry Allen was just beginning to understand the rules.
Pg. 13 The Antique Shop's Secrets
The bicycle ride back to the antique shop felt longer this time, Henry's mind buzzing with the implications of the ink analysis. The connection to antique mapmakers and document forgers opened up a whole new avenue of inquiry. He found the elderly proprietor, Mr. Abernathy, dusting a display case filled with old pocket watches.
"Mr. Abernathy," Henry began, his tone urgent, "I need to know more about that ebony king Lord Felinchi purchased. You mentioned it had a distinctive carved base and a small indentation. Do you recall anything else about it? Any markings, any history you might have shared with Lord Felinchi?"
Mr. Abernathy peered at Henry over his spectacles. "Ah, the ebony king. A remarkable piece it was. Quite old, I believe it dated back to the late 18th century. It had a certain weight to it, a heft that spoke of its age. As for markings… let me see…" He tapped a finger to his temple, his eyes unfocused in thought. "There was something… almost hidden on the base. A tiny symbol, carved so subtly one might miss it entirely. It looked like… a stylized 'A' enclosed within a circle."
Henry's pulse quickened. "An 'A' in a circle? Did Lord Felinchi mention anything about this symbol?"
"He did remark on it, yes. He was quite intrigued. I told him I'd seen similar markings on other antique pieces, often associated with a particular workshop in Europe known for producing high-quality game pieces and… occasionally… clandestine documents during times of political unrest."
"Clandestine documents?" Henry pressed. "What kind?"
Mr. Abernathy lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Rumors, mind you, just rumors passed down through collectors. But whispers of secret societies, of coded messages embedded in seemingly innocuous objects… that sort of thing."
"Do you have any records of the sale? Anything that might indicate when Lord Felinchi purchased the king?"
Mr. Abernathy shuffled behind the counter and consulted a large, leather-bound ledger. After a moment, he pointed to an entry. "Here we are. February the first. Just a few days before… before the unfortunate events."
Henry noted the date. Three days before the murder. The timing felt significant. "Mr. Abernathy, did anyone else show interest in this particular chess piece before or after Lord Felinchi's purchase? Anyone asking about antique chess sets, perhaps?"
The old man shook his head. "No, sir. Lord Felinchi had quite the eye for unique items. He often acquired things that didn't draw much attention from others."
Pg. 14 A Visit to the Library
Armed with the description of the ebony king's marking – the stylized 'A' within a circle – Henry's next stop was the Louisville Free Public Library. He spent hours poring over books on antique symbols, secret societies, and the history of European craftsmanship. The 'A' within a circle was proving elusive, not matching any widely known symbols of prominent organizations.
However, he stumbled upon a reference in a book on historical watermarks and paper molds. It mentioned a small, obscure group of artisans in 18th-century Italy who specialized in creating intricate game pieces and, according to the author, were rumored to have occasionally used their skills for more… unconventional purposes, including the creation of documents for individuals operating in the shadows. The watermark associated with some of their paper bore a faint resemblance to an 'A' enclosed in a circular flourish.
Could Lord Felinchi have been involved in something related to historical forgeries? Was the ebony king not just a collector's item but a key to some illicit activity? And was his murder connected to this secret world?
With this new information, Henry returned to the Felinchi manor. He requested to speak with Mrs. Felinchi again, his demeanor now more direct. He found her in the drawing-room, looking pale and drawn.
"Mrs. Felinchi," Henry began, "we've learned that your husband recently acquired a rather unique antique ebony chess king. It had a small, distinctive marking on the base – a stylized 'A' within a circle. Are you familiar with this piece?"
Mrs. Felinchi's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her face before she quickly masked it with a look of confusion. "No, Mr. Allen. I don't recall any such chess piece. David had many… collectibles."
Henry pressed on. "This particular piece is believed to be quite old, possibly with connections to a group known for creating… clandestine documents."
Mrs. Felinchi's composure seemed to waver. She wrung her hands tightly. "I… I don't know what you're implying, Mr. Allen."
"The night your husband died, you mentioned he received a letter that greatly agitated him, a letter he subsequently burned. Mrs. Felinchi, I believe that letter may be connected to this antique chess king and whatever secrets it holds."
Tears welled up in her eyes. "I told you, I don't know what the letter said."
"But you saw it, didn't you? You must have noticed something about it. The paper, the handwriting… anything at all?"
She hesitated, her lower lip trembling. "It… it was on thick, cream-colored paper. And the handwriting… it was elegant, almost… calligraphic."
Henry's mind flashed back to the note he found in the ledger. The same description. "Mrs. Felinchi, did the letter have any markings on it? Perhaps a small symbol?"
She looked away, her voice barely audible. "I… I don't remember."
Henry's gaze softened slightly. "Mrs. Felinchi, I understand this is difficult, but I believe your husband's death is tied to something he was involved in, something secret. This chess king, this letter… they are crucial. You may be in danger as well."