I’m the Murderer (Can I really not be this time?)

“Pana was found on a remote pier. I haven’t seen the body, but apparently he’s now serving as a resting place for his own spear.”

“Gruesome,” Bao said with a shiver, while following the sloppily-dressed Humei out into the courtyard. “So what’s happening now?”

“We are going to be interviewed by some of the men who came from Idoy Heart for the tournament. The Razor Brothers are Idoy’s most celebrated detectives.”

The way the priestess groaned, Bao knew there was a double-meaning embedded in her seeming praise.

“Humei, it’s too early for wordplay. Just give it straight, if I’m a suspect.”

“They’re celebrated, not competent. Gloryhounds, in other words.”

“Oh.”

That wasn’t good news. Bao had hoped law enforcement in a fantasy world would at least be equally escapist, like the fantasy of possessing competence.

“Okkam and Hanlon the Razor will probably finger you right away as the main culprit. It fits the political narrative, so might as well get that part of the charade over with before they start accusing us of delaying the investigation for political reasons.”

“Political reasons? Again?” The swordsman groaned.

“Just be extremely honest, Bao,” Humei offered in comisseration, before turning to him. “Are my eyes baggy?”

Bao nodded, deciding to take the advice to heart, since he wasn’t in the mood to be as mysterious as the priestess. “Yeah, you look awful.”

“Right, then.”

Pushing a pair of double doors open, Humei guided Bao out past the front entrance of the temple, where on the other side a collection of armed men stood, flanking a pair of figures in robes holding small metal batons. One was putting on the pounds, while the other squinted rather nastily through a pair of spectacles that were tied around his ears. Bao suspected they were the detectives Humei despised.

“Gentlemen! The hour is late!” Humei loudly complained. “I hope you all have a reason for bothering a deputy priestess when she should be having her beauty sleep!”

“Honored Humei,” the portly detective announced pompously, half-bowing as he strode forward with self-assurance, “Idoy’s great champion Pana has been murdered by means most foul, and we have come to uncover the one responsible for the death!”

“I, Hanlon the Razor, believe the heinous death to have been caused by none other than your bodyguard!” The four-eyed detective jabbed an accusing finger at Bao, presently slowly edging behind his employer.

“I was asleep this whole time until Humei dragged me out of bed!”

“Ha! A likely story! Since no one ever watches another person sleep the entire time, that is unfeasible for an alibi!” The fat detective – Okkam, then – shot back. “Meanwhile, we have plenty of motive!”

“A simple deduction”, Hanlon added, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “You must have taken your defeat by Pana’s hands personally and decided to murder him in a private match to prove your superiority! You clearly displayed the strength necessary to wrench the spear from Pana’s grasp so as to drive it through him!”

An ugly ball of anger churned in the pit of Bao’s stomach, the sort that made one immediately defensive and eager for excuses. This nervous panic was enough to seep into the Oar, hidden away, and immediately he heard the whispering even through the talismans that caked it.

Kill them. Kill them all. Prove your superiority. All those who mock or frustrate you deserve to die.

Bao wondered if other people would have listened. But “superiority” was the operative word, and every time the Oar tried to tell him to sail through blood, its suggestions always fell flat. So flat, in fact, that his amusement canceled out his anxiety.

So he coughed politely. “I was okay with losing. Like, I didn’t want to embarrass him, and I wasn’t really fighting seriously. It was just a show fight to make everyone happy, and I think Idoy Heart wanted egg on its face by having a nobody like me take Pana out.”

Okkam and Hanlon stared. Apparently, something in Bao’s statement didn’t mesh.

“You…” Okkam blinked, slowly, almost uncomprehending, staring first at Bao, then Hanlon, then back again. “You didn’t want to prove you're the best?”

“I mean, if I wanted to, I’d try next festival. But I don’t have anything to prove, otherwise.”

Apparently, that was enough to blow a hole in the detectives’ theories, leaving them silent while Humei gestured to her charge.

“See how considerate my bodyguard is? How could you ever imagine a big ol’ puppy like him trying to be mean after dark when he’d just have a cute little nap instead?”

“W-Well, as a bodyguard,” Hanlon started, “he could still have taken orders-”

The priestess’s expression soured as she cut them off. “Okkam. Hanlon. Stop before you finish that sentence. Consider how you want Idoy and Seaknot to come out of this before you theorize certain kinds of premeditation.”

Their mouths squeezed shut in silent agreement.

“Hey, detectives, could I help in any way?” Bao offered. “Like, follow along, give you a boost over a wall or something when you need it…”

“S-suspects shouldn’t get involved in the investigation,” Okkam quickly countered, stepping back.

“I think we need to make a thorough inquiry before we come back with solid evidence,” Hanlon agreed, almost unheard, as he briskly about-faced. The group of men they led exchanged puzzled glances and quietly followed.

In the undefeatable claim of unambition, the small group of officers slowly skulked away from Bao and the temple, and an awkward silence reigned until they had vanished from sight.

“As I said, celebrated, not competent,” Humei repeated.

“How the heck have those two ever arrested an actual bad guy?” Bao murmured, scratching his head in muted bewilderment.

“That’s a mystery and a half, though for now we’ll have to count our lucky stars that we have some breathing room,” the priestess sighed. “Okkam and Hanlon will keep you in mind – this won’t stop them from trying to make evidence stick, so we don’t have much time.”

“Should I be running, or…?” Bao hesitantly ventured, unsure of what the woman had in mind.

“Oh perish the thought, you haven’t done enough bodyguarding for me to permit that. We’ll just have to find the killer ourselves and somehow lead the Razor Brothers to them. The last thing we need is for them to think we’re thumbing our noses at them by solving the case for them.”

The growing complexity of the situation was enough to make Bao’s head throb. In cases like these, he knew what to do: refer to an expert in office nonsense.

“I need to talk to a friend,” he resolved.