The Wizard Detective 2

I tried all afternoon to disconnect myself from the table, but I couldn’t stop it following me around. It went everywhere I went, even when I passed through spaces the table didn’t fit – that's the nature of a magic spell, tables under a spell no longer follow the normal laws of physics. 

“What can I do?” I pleaded with Pegarin, who was supposed to be my magic mentor, and was the one who had taught me the attachment spell in the first place. 

“I’ve no idea,” he confessed. “I’ve never known an attach spell that can’t be undone.” 

“So I have to have this table with me at all times.” 

“Well, move it up to the ceiling, out of the way.” 

“What if it falls? It could hurt someone.” 

“Oh don’t worry about that, a spell is permanent until it’s undone. If you don’t leave the room, or undo the spell, that table will be up there on the ceiling until the end of time.  Well, until the house collapses, at least, though the table will be in the same place. In fact, I’m pretty sure that if the world ended, that table would remain in place.” 

“Great, at least if the world ends, I don’t have to worry about a table falling on me.” 

Our magical discussion was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell.  Pegarin checked his wand, without bothering to get up out of his chair. 

“It’s the police,” he said. “There’s been a murder. Anyway, there’s no need for the table to be an inconvenience, it’s merely following you from room to room, once you’re settled in any given place you can magic it into a distant corner.” 

The bell rang a second time. 

“Aren’t you going to answer it?” I said.  “It’s the police. If you don’t answer they can break the door down.” 

 

“I’d like to see them try. That door is protected by a magic spell. A charging rhino couldn’t break it down. The spell also protects against woodworm and dry-rot.” 

“It’s not a wooden door,” I said. “Why do you need to protect it from woodworm and dry-rot?” 

“It’s the only door protection spell I know. It’s quite old, all the doors were wooden back then.” 

The bell rang for a third time. 

“You should answer it,” I said.   

“Oh, very well.”  He waived his wand and the door opened.  Outside stood a police sergeant, who seemed unsurprised at the door seemingly opening by itself.  He peeked his head into the front room, where we were sat. 

“Ah, Pegarin, you are in,” he said. “I was hoping you could help me with a case. May I come in?” 

“Oh, very well, I suppose you must.  Wakins, this is Sergeant Harris.  Harris, this is Watkins, my protege. The wizard academy sent him.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Harris said.  “I’ve got a mysterious murder case, and I think there might be magic involved.  I was wondering if you could take a look.” 

“Murder,” said Pegarin dismissively. “As if I could give a jot about murder.” 

“It’s a serious crime,” said Harris. “THE most serious crime, in fact.” 

“Nonsense.  It’s not as if these ‘murders’ were any threat to me.  A good ‘protectus’ spell and no Fuggle can harm me.” 

“Fuggle?” said Harris, puzzled. “You mean a muggle, right?” 

“No, a Fuggle.  It means a person unable to do any magic at all.  Fuggle.” 

“All the same,” Harris persisted.  “Murder is a serious offence, and this one looks like it has magic at the heart of it.” 

 

“Well, if a wizard killed someone, don’t expect to catch them. And even if you DID, you’d never be able to lock them up. There isn’t a prison in the land a simple ‘escapus’ spell wouldn’t work in.” 

“Tell us about the case,” I said. 

“Ah, I’m glad one of you is interested at least. Well, it’s a very mysterious case and no mistake.  On Monday night, a Miss Elizabeth Thomset was murdered in her room at the Chain Hotel. She was stabbed through the heart with a steak knife.  And here’s the interesting part, the key was in the lock on the inside of the door. The windows were locked, and there was nobody concealed in the room. There was no way an intruder could have killed her and left the room, without either locking the door or the window.  There, what do you think?” 

 

“Tch, I can think of a million ways.  A lockus spell would re-lock the door after leaving the room, or a ‘exitus’ spell would take the killer wherever he wanted to go, no need to trouble with a door or window.” 

“That’s why I’m here. Is it magic? Is there any way you can cast a spell to check whether magic has been used at the crime scene.” 

 

Oh yes, that’s a basic ‘magicus detecticus’ spell.  It’s very basic, why I’m sure even Watkins here could do it.” 

“I can,” I said.  “I learnt it at the Academy. I got an A.” 

“So will you come with us Pegarin, test out whether the crime really is the work of a wizard?” 

“Oh good lord no, I can’t be bothered with Fuggle things like that.” 

“I’ll do it?” I said.  “I know the spell, I can do the test.” 

Sergeant Harris looked at Pegarin for approval. 

“Oh very well,” Pegarin said. “You can take the boy.  Mind you, you’ll have to take the table as well.” 

“The table?” Harris looked confused. 

“The one on the ceiling, there in the corner.  Watkins has gone a cast a spell he can’t undo, so the table goes everywhere he goes.” 

“Right,” said Harris, who seemed unphased by the revelation and was clearly used to the ways of wizards. “Well, if you can magic it down from the corner it can go in the back of the car.”  

“I’ll try to work out how to undo the spell while you’re out,” Pegarin said.  “Have fun.”