Holden arrived at the crime scene a few minutes later. Even though it was the middle of the day, the whole place was completely empty, aside from an inspector from the Chrimoria police department. Holden was familiar with this inspector. He was an elf named Alwin, who was on relatively good terms with Holden.


    The moment Holden stepped foot inside, Alwin turned around to look at him. Alwin looked young. If he were human, people would’ve suspected he was in his mid-twenties. In actuality, he was over 210 years old, making him a young adult by elven standards.


    “What are you doing here, Holden?” Alwin said in a mildly irritated tone of voice. “This case is closed and shut. We don’t need any outside help.”


    “I’m not here to help, Alwin,” Holden said, leaning against the doorway. “I’m here to make you and the rest of your department look like fools.”


    Alwin clicked his tongue. “So, you’re here about the minotaur. Did his missus hire you to prove him innocent?”


    “Right on the mark. Durik’s supposedly innocent, and I’m the lucky one hired to show you all how to do actual detective work.”


    “That’s funny coming from a washed-up master thief.”


    Holden’s eye twitched in irritation. “I wasn’t a thief. I was a spy.”


    “Right. So, what favor are you going to ask me for this time? You know I can''t give you access to any of the evidence, or share any confidential information.”


    “I know. But like you said, I’m a ‘master thief‘. If I want to see the evidence, I’d just steal it from right underneath your noses.” Holden then started walking around the tavern. He made his way behind the counter where he noticed blood splatter on the wall. “What can you tell me?” While listening to Alwin’s explanation, Holden pulled out a handheld camera. The camera looked like an old 1950’s handheld camera with a silver dish for the flash. It was considered advanced technology for this world, but not unheard of. In fact, the technology in this world was a hodgepodge. In terms of technological advancement, most of this world resembled Earth in the year 1907 with some exceptions. Firearms were rare, trains, cars, and several other things hadn’t been developed yet. There were other inventions, like cameras, which were a bit more advanced.


    The advancements in photography made keeping records of crime scenes much easier for detectives, and Holden took full advantage of it. Holden took pictures of the blood splatter from different angles, while listening to Alwin speak.


    “Not much to say,” Alwin said. “The culprit smashed the victim’s head with a warhammer, then claims he doesn’t remember it happening. Swears he’s innocent. You know how these people are when they get caught.”


    Holden nodded his head in agreement. It was common for perpetrators to claim their innocence whenever they were caught for a crime, but not the minotaurs. People saw them as barbaric and bloodthirsty, but they were also honest, even the criminals wouldn’t lie. That didn’t mean they couldn’t, but Holden wasn’t convinced that Durik was a liar.


    After examining the blood splatter for some time, Holden noticed something. To confirm his suspicions, Holden took a protractor out of his bag and began measuring the angles of the blood splatter. What he was doing wasn’t an exact science, but judging from the angle of the blood spatter, the hammer hit the victim straight down, right at what Holden assumed would be the victim''s head level.


    “What can you tell me about the victim?” Holden asked, hoping Alwin could supply him with some information to support his theory.


    “Human. Male. I think he was in his forties,” Alwin replied, scratching his head, trying to remember everything he could about the victim. “The poor guy was standing behind the counter. Probably wiping it down, given he had a wet hand towel in his hand when we found him.”


    “How tall was he?”


    “Just under six feet, I think.”


    “And how tall was the perp?”


    “Just around eight feet. His horns add another foot or two.”


    Holden then looked up. “And this ceiling is about ten, maybe eleven feet tall. How big was the hammer?”


    Alwin shrugged his shoulders and gave him a rough estimate with his hand up above his head.


    Holden looked at Alwin and nodded. “So, about six feet. Pretty standard for a minotaur of his size.” Holden looked Alwin directly in the eyes. “Who reported the crime?”


    “The perp did. But we both know that’s a common tactic to attempt to elude suspicion.”


    Holden nodded his head before asking Alwin one last question. “Are you the inspector assigned to this case?”


    Alwin shook his head. “No. I’m not.”


    “Then what are you doing here, Alwin?”


    Alwin smiled, He then turned around to walk out the door before saying, “It’s best we both forget we saw each other here. In exchange for your silence, I’ll let you pop in and out of here. Just make sure none of the other officers see you. Also, you might want to leave soon. The body is already in the morgue, but the cleanup crew will be coming in to wipe down the crime scene.”


    Alwin shut the door behind himself after he left, leaving Holden alone in the tavern.


    Now that Holden was by himself, he started working in earnest. Holden walked to the front of the counter, then pretending to strike at a man who was about six feet. He swung his arms from above, from the left, then from the right. Doing this made him wonder aloud, “Why would the perp swing downward? Minotaur’s are tall, but they’re also warriors. Swinging down against a standing enemy makes the attack easier to dodge. Plus, the ceiling isn’t very high. The perp would’ve been trained to swing from the side, not down.”


    Holden slapped his hands on the counter and sighed. “I’m going to have to talk to the perp.”


    Meow! The cry of a cat, which seemed to suddenly appear out of nowhere on the countertop beside Holden, causing him to jump and almost stumble.


    “You scared me,” Holden said.


    The cat had black fur and beautiful blue eyes. It pawed at Holden and continued meowing at him.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    Holden shooed it away. “Sorry, kitty. I can’t play. Maybe there are some rats you can eat in the basement.”


    The cat continued meowing. Holden went in to try scratching its chin to see if that would quiet it down, but the cat scratched him, then hissed before running away.


    Holden grumbled. “Agh, it’s just a stupid cat anyway.” He then left the tavern and headed toward the nearest police station where he suspected the perp, Durik, would still be waiting in lockup.


    Holden walked through the city streets of Chrimoria. Horse drawn carriages, carts, and pedestrians were going in both directions without any regard for the people around them. Holden shoved his way through the crowds, only to accidentally bump into someone who fell face-first on the ground.


    “Oh, sorry,” Holden said, holding his hand out to help the person up.


    The person he had bumped into turned out to be one of the beastfolk, which meant she resembled a human in most aspects. What made beastfolk different were the animal features mixed in. Beastfolk could look like a human with bird wings, or a human with a lizard tail and scales. They would only have the features of one animal, never more. This particular beastfolk that Holden had run into was a young girl who had the ears and tail of a fox.


    The fox girl looked like she was around ten years old. She got up on her own, put up the hood of her coat to cover her head, and glared at Holden before running off.


    Holden decided to ignore the situation and carried on toward the police station. Once he arrived, he went up to the officer at the front desk.


    The officer was in the middle of writing something down when Holden approached him. The officer was a dwarf. He had the usual stocky stature of the dwarves, but was tall for his race, being just under five feet tall.


    The dwarven officer recognized Holden and groaned. “What do you want?”


    Holden stood up straight and puffed out his chest. “I want to talk to Durik.”


    “To Durik? You mean the minotaur who murdered the tavern owner? That’s not going to happen.” The officer then returned to writing.


    Holden wouldn’t give up so easily. “What’ll it take?


    “Are you trying to bribe an officer? Get out of here before I bring you in for obstruction.”


    “Fine then.” Holden walked out of the station and into an alley to get out of sight. He would’ve preferred not to have to rely on his old spying skills to get the information he needed, but Holden didn’t have any other options. If the justice system wasn’t willing to work with him, then he’d just have to become someone the justice system was already working with.


    Holden looked around to confirm no one was watching. He then dug through his bag and pulled out a plain white mask. This mask was a magic item that allowed the wearer to take on a different appearance.


    Holden closed his eyes as he put the mask on while visualizing the face he wanted to use. The visualizing had to be very specific. Otherwise, he might accidentally create a face that drew too much attention. As a spy, Holden had learned to choose his appearance carefully, based on his goals. His current goal was to sneak into the police station so he could speak to Durik, which would require him to go unnoticed.


    Holden thought of the most inconspicuous face he could think of. Elves were the most common residents in this part of the city, so Holden took on the face of a plain-looking elf with blond hair and blue eyes.


    The coat Holden wore was a magic item that could change its appearance. All he needed to do was visualize what he wanted the coat to look like for it to change. The coat changed from its long, brown appearance to the uniform of the inspectors of the Chrimoria Police Department.


    Holden then worked on changing his posture. He was typically a very confident man, but slouched and walked with a rather careless demeanor. Holden stood up straight, stuck his chin up like he was looking down at the world around him, and adopted a smug expression.


    The elven race typically had a condescending attitude due to having superior intelligence, magic, and longevity. They weren’t shy about it either. The elves who had to live among the other races weren’t as stuck up, but they were still a little pompous.


    The final part was to change his voice in case he had to speak. Holden settled for only increasing the pitch of his voice.


    Holden returned to the police station after finishing his disguise. He walked in with his head held high right past the officer at the front desk. After passing through the front, he found his way to the jail cells where prisoners were temporarily kept until they could be transferred to an actual prison.


    There was only one minotaur in the entire place, making it easy to figure out which prisoner was Durik. The only issue was that an officer was present in the room, likely to keep watch over the prisoners. The officer was a human, so Holden knew exactly how to deal with him using his elven disguise.


    “Hey, officer,” Holden said in a high-pitched yet authoritative voice. “I need to talk to the Minotaur. Give us some privacy.”


    “Sorry, sir,” the officer replied. “I’m not supposed to-.”


    Holden turned to the human with a condescending glare. “Are you denying the order of your superior? Leave us.”


    The officer grit his teeth in frustration, but stood out in the hallway just outside of the room.


    Now that the officer was gone, Holden approached Durik’s cell. “Are you Durik? Husband of Cadelina, and the former guard of the-.”


    “What do you want now?” Durik roared, brimming with anger. “Are you here to mock me, too? Stuck up elves. You’re the third inspector to come in here asking questions. What do you people want from me? A confession? I won’t confess to a crime I didn’t commit.”


    Holden looked into the minotaur’s eyes. The experience he had gained as a spy made Holden both an excellent liar, and a good detector of lies as well. He could tell Durik was speaking the truth. There was a look of righteous indignation within Durik’s eyes that couldn’t be easily faked, especially by the straight-forward minotaur race.


    Holden chuckled. “I guess my hunch was right. You really are innocent.”


    Taken aback by Holden’s words, Durik’s eyes widened. “Wha- You believe me.”


    “Of course I do. I know you minotaurs aren’t as barbaric as people say. You all might be war-like, but you’re also honorable and honest to a fault. I give you my word, I will prove your innocence. I just need to hear your side of the story.”


    Durik collected his thoughts, took a deep breath, and exhaled. “Okay. I’ll choose to believe you, for now.”


    Durik explained everything that happened. “I arrived at the tavern early in the morning like usual. The owner was scrubbing down the counter like he always did, and asked me to go into the cellar to grab a few ingredients. I agreed, then leaned my warhammer against the wall by the cellar door before going downstairs. The only thing I remember after that was waking up on the cellar floor.”


    “So, you passed out? Did someone hit you over the head?”


    “No. I don’t recall anything like that. My head felt fine, too. A hit hard enough to knock out a minotaur would’ve left a mark. But there’s nothing like that on my head. See for yourself.” Durik showed Holden the top of his head.


    Holden scratched his head in bewilderment. “If it wasn’t a blow to the head that knocked you out, then it must’ve been magic.”


    “Yeah. That’s what I thought too. I went upstairs after that, and that’s where I found my boss dead with my hammer right on top of his head. I rushed off to the nearest police officer after that. Next thing I know, Inspector Valrin is putting me in shackles, and accusing me of murdering my boss.” Durik then gnashed his teeth and growled. “I swear, I’d like to strangle that pompous elf’s neck. No offense there, friend.”


    Holden chuckled and brushed off the comment. “None taken. We elves certainly are a little uptight and condescending. Your information is helpful.”


    “Do you really think you can prove my innocence?” Durik asked.


    Holden saw the minotaur’s eyes. They were full of hope and trust. The worst part of the job was letting down a client’s hope, especially when the client was the wife of a man who had been wrongfully accused of a crime he didn’t commit. Holden wanted Durik to keep his hopes up, but not to have unrealistic expectations.


    “I''ll do my best,” Holden assured the Minotaur. “I can’t promise you that I’ll prove your innocence. But I’ll do everything I can to clear your name.”


    Durik’s ears drooped. “I guess that’s the best I can hope for at this point. Do me a favor, though. If I don’t make it out of here, just let my wife know that I love her. And tell her that I think she’ll be a wonderful mother, even if I’m not there to support her.”


    Holden felt a lump in his throat. “You two have children?”


    “No. None yet. But we have a little one on the way. She’s three months pregnant now. I was so looking forward to our first child.”


    Holden couldn’t tell because Durik wasn’t looking right at him, but he could swear he saw a tear in the minotaur’s eyes. Minotaur men were usually very tough and masculine. However, Holden couldn’t blame the man for shedding a tear given his circumstances.


    Holden clenched his fists in anger. He didn’t say it out loud, but he swore to himself that he would prove this man innocent, for the sake of the unborn child.