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The Collar of the Two Skies Chapter 9


 

Chapter 9

 Everything would have gone like clockwork at the House of Winds if the stars hadn't aligned in such a way that Anemo was present in the living room pretty much all the time. Of all the places to write, he had chosen the exact recliner armchair behind which the furries—or rather, Sirocco—had hidden the backpack full of clues.




First, he and Arcibald Peter Stone had a discussion in the living room that was as long as a day of fasting. They went on and on about Remi, publishers, deadlines, magazines, meetings, Anemo’s coffee recipe, the weather, literary trends...




"Mon Dieu, these two will retire by the time they finish this conversation. How can they talk so much? I truly do not understand!" Mistral grumbled.




"Shh, calm down, Mistral! They might hear you. We still don't know for sure when humans can understand us and when they can't," Aeolus tried to soothe the chat noir.




Just then, Arcibald’s phone began to ring, and he answered immediately:




"Yes, it's me. What? Unbelievable! I'm coming right now."




"Quiet, he's leaving," Aeolus whispered from beneath the fringes of Mistral’s pillow.




Arcibald stood up from the armchair at once and turned to Anemo, looking somewhat embarrassed.




"Gale, I'm sorry, I have to go. They called me from my daughter's school. She beat someone up."




But before the furries could even breathe a sigh of relief, Mr. Trench Coat was already standing at the door in all his glory, without even having a chance to knock.




"Exactly who we were missing," Mistral muttered, but he didn't abandon his pillow; he had to keep up with the latest updates.




"Good day! All my respects, Mr. Gale. I have come personally to return Miss Storm's purse," Daniel Frost said, brushing aside his sunglasses, which weren't particularly useful given the circumstances.




Anemo measured him patiently from head to toe.




"But why here? Miss Storm's address is completely different, and so is her mother's..."




"May I come in for just a few minutes?" Trench Coat asked, but it was just a formality since he had already made himself right at home, first stepping into the hallway and from there straight into the living room... More precisely, directly toward the armchair from which he had collected the purse a few days prior.




"But please, by all means, make yourself right at home," Anemo replied, adding in a slightly lower voice, "seeing as you already do..."




"Oh, my, look at all the cats you have here. This one," he said, pointing his finger at Bise, "is this Miss Storm's cat?"




He leaned down very close to the cat and reached out his hand to pet her, but Bise stood up abruptly and let out one of those annoying, drawn-out meows, as if her tail had been stepped on.




"Don't you dare!" she bristled, but of course, Trench Coat didn't understand her words, and that was exactly how it needed to stay.




"In a very strange turn of events, Mr. Gale, after I arrived at the station, I realized that Miss Remi's phone was missing... strange, isn't it?"




Anemo shot him a skeptical look.




"I hope you're not implying what I think you're implying..."




"Oh, heavens, how could I? Still, I believe the phone..." As he spoke, the self-proclaimed Columbo fan drew closer and closer to the armchair, pulled it away from the wall, and leaned down to search first on the rug, and then exactly inside the Velcro pocket of the recliner, from which he pulled out the writer's phone. "...ah, so as I was saying, the phone slipped down here. Very interesting, right?" He placed the phone on the coffee table, wagging his index finger reproachfully, as if the phone were a naughty child.




"Ve-very interesting!" Anemo stammered, unable to believe his eyes.




"Have you been in touch with the young lady since? Or perhaps she..."




Anemo tried to articulate a response, but the words wouldn't come, so he just nodded his head like a toy puppy.




"Right, I won't keep you any longer..." The detective exited just as he had entered, as if he owned the place.




Anemo's reaction came only after a few seconds, as if he had been totally numb. He went to close the door behind Trench Coat, but it swung open a quarter of the way, and only the head of the man who had just left popped back inside.




"Just one more thing to trouble you with. Has anyone else inquired about Miss Storm?"




"Uh, our publisher, Arcibald Peter Stone..."







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