Bell(e)s in the Woods - 9. Thursday, April 24, 2025 (III)

~The Cursebreaker~

The small cabin in the far corner of the property we owned was by no means blessed with good fortune. My great-grandfather had given one of his cousins permission to build a place to stay after his release from prison, and since then the cabin had had only dubious occupants.

The current one, Peter, a distant cousin on my grandmother's side, was no exception. A voyeur and stalker who had driven my mom away from Quincefield to Ashmill in the first place; why Uncle Carl let him live in the cabin was a mystery to me.

Anyway, a chalk-white Peter and a no less pale Uncle Carl stood next to Peter's silver Ford as we approached through the overgrown garden.

“I want to know first if it's really Kate,” Vee said quietly. “I can always ask questions later.” She had already called Doc Stone and forensics, as well as Warren.

I nodded. “What if not?

“Then I'll try to pass it off to someone else. Either way, how does someone get into the cabin?”

“Magic?” I shrugged and Vee rolled her eyes. “Not everyone can afford to reinforce their locks with anti-magic. Otherwise, the fence always has gaps somewhere, and I don’t think the door or windows of the cabin offer the greatest resistance either.”

The door was wide open and Vee bent down to inspect the lock. “Worn, but doesn't look like it's been broken.”

“There's no magic left on it,” I remarked after a quick glance.

With a grunt, Vee gave grumpy nod and then stepped into the cabin, me following her.

The door to the tiny bathroom was open, as was the door to the barely larger bedroom. Otherwise, the cabin consisted of a single room, small and compact. Like a tiny house before the term became hip.

It stank. Of disorder, if I can sum it up that way, of old sweat, and definitely burnt. Of scorched plastic or hair and disgustingly sweet of sickness.

And on the ugly brown leather couch lay a person in a long black coat that seemed to be burnt away at the chest and stomach.

Almost hesitantly, Vee stepped closer, and I followed suit.

Remnants of a red and gold scarf. Black hair. Red, burned skin. The face looked terrible. The large burn had been oozing and seemed to be infected, and the rest was swollen. Not that I know much about burns, but the right eye seemed to have barely survived. Despite everything, I recognized Kate from the photos I had seen.

I swallowed hard, but in addition to the stench in the hut, the corresponding disgusting taste settled on my tongue like a slimy film. Yet another unpleasant image that could haunt me in my dreams.

“You know,” Vee suddenly sighed in annoyance, “this case sucks. Why do I have to deal with two stupid brats killing each other in an illegal duel?”

Her outburst surprised me a little. But then again... she was under a lot of stress. I gently squeezed her shoulder—well, hard enough that she could feel it through her thick jacket. “Because it's our job.”

With another sigh, she rubbed her eyes. “What a mess.”

“I know.” I squeezed her shoulder again. “I know.”

 

 

~The Lawyer~

I really would have liked the Bells not to have insisted on accompanying them to the coroner's office. I really would have liked them to have listened to Doc Stone, who had said the sight was not a pretty one and it would be better to remember Kate as a healthy girl.

Well, I kept a respectful distance, but the drama could have been avoided.

Mrs. Bell threw herself into her husband's arms, sobbing loudly, who suddenly looked very gray in the face and muttered tonelessly, “That's our Kate.” Violet had already mentioned that Kate had been identified by her dental records, but Mrs. Bell had insisted.

When she had recovered enough to stand and walk on her own, Violet led us into a quiet side room, which was probably intended for such situations.

I caught an inquiring glance from Mr. Bell and cleared my throat. “Detective DeLaney, can you tell us anything about how Kate died? What kind of external influences were there?”

“Where—where exactly was she found? Did a kidnapper do this to her?” Mrs. Bell sniffed.

Violet, her expression sympathetic, shook her head, but it didn't necessarily seem like an answer. “Doctor Stone is still working to determine exactly how she died. At the moment, we're going with the theory that she and another novice from the coven engaged in an illegal duel and subsequently died.”

“Wait, there's another dead girl?” Mr. Bell tilted his head in confusion.

“She was found during the night at the presumed location of the duel.”

“So what do we have here?” I asked. “Two victims who are also perpetrators?”

“Don't say that!” whispered Mrs. Bell, staring at me in horror.

“As I said, it's currently a work-theory,” Violet said quickly before I could answer. “There's a lot of evidence to support it, but it's quite possible that we'll never know all the details, precisely because both of them are dead.”

Mr. Bell glanced at me again.

“No third party involved?” I asked, and this time Violet pursed her lips.

“Mr. Upfield, are you in such a hurry to drag someone to court?”

My cheeks grew warm. “That's not what I meant.” And she knew it.

She snorted softly. “So far, it doesn't look like a third person was present. However, nothing is set in stone.”

“Of course.”

While Mrs. Bell had buried her face in a handkerchief again, her husband actually seemed relieved.

A moment of silence ensued, and I caught Violet's gaze; she nodded slightly to the side.

“Mr. and Mrs. Bell, we'll give you some privacy. Please take your time,” she said, and I hurriedly got up. Mr. Bell nodded at me, and I nodded back. If he wanted to say something with it, it completely escaped me.

Out in the hallway, Violet sighed and pulled the elastic out of her hair with a sharp movement.

“I'm a lawyer, but I'm not your enemy,” I declared, and I felt myself getting warm again because my tone unmistakably contained a pout.

A grin flitted across her face, which didn't make it any better. “I know, Nathan, I know.” Then she re-tied her ponytail and continued: “But Mr. Bell's story about this Benjamin Block is something completely different, if there's any truth to it at all.”

“So you haven't found anything in that direction?”

“Nope. And since the Bells' finances have nothing to do with their daughter's disappearance, we can't look into that either. In general, investigating a politician based on mere suspicion is... difficult.”

“Even if he might have something to do with the disappearance, I know.” I rolled my eyes.

“Quincefield isn't very big, even the small fish have more power than their political counterparts in New York City.” She sounded frustrated.

“I know,” I repeated, nodding. “So, it's the duel theory?”

Nodding and shrugging, Violet raised her hands somewhat helplessly. “So far, we're assuming that Kate believed Madeleine was dead and, because her phone was dead too, she tried to get to her car.”

“Despite her serious injury?”

“What other choice did she have?”

I grimaced and nodded. "True. So the phone is broken?"

“According to Jonah, it would have survived the fire which burned Kate, but there must have been an electric shock before or after.” She shrugged. “Now, of course, one could say she could have tried to get Madeleine’s phone, after all, you can always make an emergency call, but I guess in her condition, thinking wasn’t that easy anymore.”

I grimaced a little more. “Burns hurt terribly. I once burned myself on the oven, just a small spot, but it hurt forever. I don't even want to imagine how much she suffered.” A hard shiver ran down my spine and I involuntarily rubbed the scar on my arm, covered by clothing.

“Yes,” Violet murmured with an approving grimace, “just the thought of it hurts.” Her phone rang as she spoke. “Hey, Dust.” It was more of a sigh than a greeting. “Wait, Nathan's here...” She put it on speakerphone and I stepped closer.

“Hey, Dust.”

“Hey. So. You have to hear this.” Dust sounded equally annoyed and excited.

“We're all ears.”

“Bridget was just here. She said she knew she probably acted weird, but she didn't want to get involved. That's why she wanted to apologize.”

“Understandable, but not helpful,” Violet remarked dryly.

"Okay, so. She told me that after Katrina died—you remember, Kate's actual mentor—no one really wanted to take on the mentoring role. Uma could have taught Madeleine and Kate at the same time relatively easily, but she refused, and in the end, Phoebe was given the job, with Uma as supervisor. According to Bridget, the problem is that Phoebe isn't a particularly talented witch. Her last novice was trained at the same time as Phoebe, so she knows Phoebe quite well. What was she getting at? Phoebe literally dumped Kate on her, and they both bombarded her with calls and requests for help."

“Um, and what's the problem?” I wanted to know.

“The problem is that both of them bypassed Uma's supervision because they didn't want to give Madeleine any more ammunition for the arguments, but Bridget, by then with a new novice, didn't want anything to do with it. She spoke to Uma recently once again and Uma promised this time to take care of it, so Bridget tried relatively hard to set and defend her boundaries. That didn't go down well with Kate.”

Violet and I exchanged glances.

“All well and good, but why didn't Bridget say anything right away? At least to you?” Violet wanted to know, and Dust sighed.

“Bridget said she wanted to stay out of it. The argument between Kate and Madeleine escalated so much because of Phoebe's incompetence and Uma's ‘let them be' attitude. She said things might have been said or things might have happened that she doesn't know about. And officially, she was never really responsible anyway.” Dust snorted. “Which is hard to swallow in itself, considering that Bridget is a White Witch, just like Uma.”

“I can understand why she wanted to stay out of the drama,” I said cautiously. “Especially if she got pulled into it much deeper than ever intended.”

“We all can,” Violet grumbled. “And the actual point is, Dust?”

“The point is that Bridget was concerned after the girls were kicked out and wanted to finally say something. However, it only clicked when I told her during the conversation that we found Kate with burns.”

“Because?” I wanted to know.

“Because Phoebe showed up on Monday with her feet completely burned and said she had stepped on something half-baked while out on a stroll around the coven grounds, and it had exploded. I quote: ‘She’s drowning herself in healing sleep potions and painkillers.’”

A gasp of surprise escaped me while Violet shook her head.

“And nobody was surprised?”

“Vee, novices mess around and experiment. Magic is dangerous. All the witches there know that, and they were all novices once.”

“Some pieces of the puzzle only fit when others have been put into place,” I said slowly, and while Violet looked disgruntled, Dust said,

“Right. Vee, you saw Phoebe earlier. She definitely knows more. And I wouldn’t be surprised if Uma knows something too.”

Violet let out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a grunt. “Witches. I just wish Bridget had said something sooner. Then we might have found them alive.”

“That wouldn't have helped much in Madeleine's case of witch blood poisoning, but I agree with you.” Dust sighed and then said in a disappointed tone, “I guess the coven isn't the kind of community I always thought it was.”

 

 

~The Detective~

Phoebe was pretty. The mouth perhaps a little too wide, but she had something fragile and innocent about her that probably turned a lot of men's heads. Under different circumstances, it probably would have worked on me too.

Right now, she was slumped in her chair in the interrogation room, looking tired as she faced Warren and me.

“I'm sorry to have brought you here at dinnertime, Miss Chambers, but some things are best dealt with right away,” I began, then pointed to Warren. “Officer Ingram is assisting me with the investigation.”

Phoebe nodded.

I recited the formalities on tape and then said directly: “Miss Chambers, you can interrupt this conversation at any time and call a lawyer.”

She nodded again. “I understand.”

“Good.” Frustration and a certain amount of anger bubbled up inside me. But at least Phoebe could no longer hide directly behind Uma. “I assume you've heard that we found Kate.”

“Yes. Yes, Maggie mentioned it." She nodded and interlaced her fingers.

As agreed, Warren slid the file he had brought with him toward her and opened it.

Phoebe’s reaction—or rather, lack thereof—at the sight of the photo of how Kate was found spoke volumes. “Oh God,” she whispered after a long moment. It seemed forced.

“Do you have any idea how this happened?” I asked kindly.

She visibly searched for words, clearly trying not to say anything wrong or suspicious.

“What's going on with your feet, Miss Chambers?” Warren then interjected.

“What?” She looked up, confused.

“We heard you burned your feet on Monday.”

She blinked at Warren. Her gaze shifted to me.

I smiled, still friendly and inviting.

She stared at me for so long that my mouth began to ache from smiling, but then she suddenly sobbed and buried her face in her hands. “I'm so sorry!”

“What are you sorry for, Miss Chambers?”

“Everything!” She sobbed violently and shook her head, Warren pushed a pack of tissues toward her.

“Could you perhaps elaborate a little more?” I asked gently, but I didn't really get an answer because she was busy blowing her nose at first.

“Miss Chambers,” Warren began, much more seriously, “if you know anything about the deaths of Kate and Madeleine, you should tell us.”

Phoebe sobbed and sniffed, her shoulders shaking. She took a second tissue and wiped her eyes. “I'm sorry...” She looked up, almost pleadingly.

“I'd like to believe that, but first I need to hear what happened,” I replied.

She took a shaky breath and nodded weakly, her gaze darting to Warren, who nodded back at her, then she stared at the tabletop. "Shortly after the two of them received the invitation to Walpurgis Night, Kate came to me. She said Madeleine had challenged her to a duel, and the loser would have to decline the invitation.“ She sniffed. ”I told her to refuse because it was silly. I thought she would listen to my advice.” She nodded thoughtfully to herself.

My smile had faded a while ago, but now a frown crept onto my forehead.

“I ran into her on Easter Saturday,” Phoebe continued. “Madeleine, I mean. She smugly told me that she and Kate were going to settle once and for all on Monday who was better. I called Kate and confronted her, and she admitted it. Said she was tired of it.” She paused and blew her nose. “I mean, I can understand, but we argued and she admitted that she was worried Madeleine wouldn't play fair. I—I hit a brick wall trying to talk her out of this illegal duel, Detective, really! So I offered to be her second.”

“Did you say anything to Uma or anyone else?” I asked, and she hiccupped.

“I tried. Uma snapped at me, saying she doesn't want to hear anything about them as long as they're banned from the coven grounds, and Bridget said something very similar.” She continued in a near whisper, “I called two other high-up witches, but no one takes me seriously anyway.”

Warren let out a hard exhale.

“On Monday Kate said she was prepared. She's better than me at a lot of things, so I didn't question it.” Phoebe sniffed again and wiped her eyes. “And then...”

We gave her the moment she needed to collect herself, but alongside my frustration, I felt a certain concern creeping in, because Phoebe began to tremble.

“A duel begins with a handshake,” she then said quietly. “And Madeleine has already used this moment to break the rules. If I hadn’t taken the precaution of wrapping Kate in an extra shield, it would have been over already. She slapped Madeleine in return, leaving scratches. At the time, I thought it was excessive, but now... God, I have no idea where she got the recipe for the witch blood, I swear!" Tears ran down her cheeks and dripped onto her lap.

“It's okay,” Warren said softly.

“The two of them fought, and oh God, I've never been so scared.” Phoebe whispered so feebly that Warren moved the recorder closer to her. “Madeleine broke through all the protective shields. She conjured a flame lance and Kate had nothing to counter it with, she was dazed. So I pushed Madeleine back.”

I remained silent while Phoebe stared into the void, probably reliving the scene in her mind’s eye.

"I extinguished the flames on Kate and then... it knocked me over. Madeleine laughed like crazy. I don't think I was really unconscious, but then Madeleine was standing over me. She said something like, ‘A stupid mentor can only teach her student nonsense, no wonder they kill each other,’ or something like that. I pushed her back again and she crashed into the tower."

Surprised, my eyebrows shot up. Had Madeleine really wanted to kill Kate and Phoebe? Was she just willing to accept that kind of collateral damage? Had some kind of magical bloodlust carried her away?

After another moment of silence, I asked gently, “And then?”

“Kate was unconscious. Madeleine was too, apparently. My phone wouldn't turn on. Kate's was half melted. I didn't want to go through Madeleine's things. So I went to Bridget. Kate had told me before that she had chosen the place for that very reason.”

“Bridget said Kate had never been to her house. So how did Kate know where she lived?” I wanted to know, and Phoebe shrugged.

“I have no idea. To be honest, the question didn’t occur to me at the time. I had only been to Bridget’s house once or twice before. But she wasn’t there. I rang the doorbell at another house, but no one answered, so I went back. And Kate was gone."

“Gone?” Warren asked incredulously. “Just gone?”

Sniffing, nodding, shrugging, Phoebe looked at him.

“Maybe she was afraid you had abandoned her.” Her eyes widened at my words.

"Oh God. "

“And then?” Warren pressed.

“Madeleine was sitting by the tower. She asked if I had come back for her. Before I could answer, something exploded under my feet. When I came to my senses, Madeleine smugly remarked that her runes were much better than she had thought. I—” Phoebe paused and looked at me imploringly. “Please, Detective... I—I didn't know what to do. My feet... without those thick boots, they would have been torn to shreds. I literally crawled to my car and—I have no idea how I got to the coven. I—I don't really know what happened after that. I vaguely remember talking to Bridget...”

“You lied to her about your feet...”

Phoebe sniffed. “When Kate got reported missing, I told Uma that the two of them had planned an illegal duel. She dismissed it as nonsense. Then Madeleine didn't show up...”

“Why didn’t you tell her more details?” Warren asked, almost indignantly, before I could ask the same question. “At least Kate’s life could have been saved if she had been found early enough.”

Phoebe was silent. For a long time. Then: “I don't know. Since Uma didn't believe me anyway and dismissed my feet as harmless burns, I didn't know what to do.”

“How are your feet?” Somehow I had the feeling that she shouldn't be walking around.

“I guess I should be at the MID getting treatment.” Her almost brave smile was accompanied by new tears.

I nodded. “I'll make sure someone from there comes by and takes a look.”

“Thank you.”

“But to summarize: you left the two unconscious girls behind to get help?”

A nod.

“When you came back, Kate was gone.”

Another nod.

“How long were you gone?”

“I—I don't know. It could have been an hour. It's not that far from the old monastery to the settlement, but the properties are huge. I knocked on several doors and rang the doorbells, I wanted to get help.”

This time I nodded. Dust's explanations were still in my ears. It was very possible that Kate had already collapsed from exhaustion in the hut, probably feeling betrayed and abandoned, before Phoebe had even started on her way back.

“And Madeleine?” Warren took over. “She was just sitting there by the tower?”

“I didn’t pay much attention to details. I was afraid she would attack again. I—I mean, I did wonder how she was doing. Why she was still sitting there, actually, but...“ Phoebe shook her head. ”I don't know anything about witch blood. All I know is that it blocks magic relatively quickly. But at that moment, I didn't even know Kate had used it."

I nodded. “She was happy about her runes and then—boom?”

Another nod. “I didn't even understand what she meant. Not until later. I must have been unconscious, because when I realized what had happened, Madeleine wasn't quite herself anymore. Like someone fighting sleep, you know? I asked her for help, but—I—” Phoebe struggled for air as much as for words.

“What about the bell?” I continued.

“Which bell?” she asked back, confused.

“The bell from the Monk's Tower.”

Her confusion grew. “There hasn’t been a bell in there for ages.”

I exchanged a glance with Warren, who shrugged weakly. “Last night, a bell began to ring in the tower, a magical image. A thread of life was attached to it, and when it broke, it triggered the ringing. The time fits well with the estimated time of Kate's death.”

Phoebe shook her head. “I can't create magical images. Bridget had to teach Kate that.”

I remembered Dust mentioning something like that.

“But why would Kate do that? I was there. And with the burns... I don't think she could have done it. I can't even imagine how she got away from there...” Phoebe suddenly burst into full-blown tears and buried her face in her hands.

I signaled to Warren and stood up. Gently, I placed a hand on Phoebe's shoulder. “We'll give you a moment, Miss Chambers.”

Out in the hallway, Warren and I took simultaneously deep breaths.

“Shit, can you believe it?” he asked, almost gasping. “Madeleine playing so dirty that she blows people up with runes?”

I snorted. “Look at how many people blow off body parts with fireworks every year. No, I don't doubt that part. Uma gave her this pretty new toy recently and she wanted to try it out. But the rest? I don't know. Phoebe seemed sincere, but it's quite possible that she's leaning heavily on her own role as a victim here.” Sighing, I ran my fingers through my hair. “The problem is, we don't have anyone who can confirm or refute her story.”

“Well, I guess Bridget and Uma will wash their hands as much as they can,” Warren muttered, and I grimaced.

“We'll look into Uma in particular, don't worry.”

Warren nodded, but his expression remained skeptical. “Should I get someone who knows about burns, or rather explosion wounds?”

“Yes, please. No sense in letting her suffer.” I nodded and rubbed my temple, where a throbbing was becoming noticeable. For a moment, I watched Warren hurry away, then rubbed my eyes. Uma, but also Bridget, would have to answer some questions, but Phoebe was guilty of participating in the illegal duel, and a certain degree of failure to render assistance could not be denied; after all, she could have clearly told her witch sisters what had happened. Kate could have been saved.

In fact, I felt a little sick when I thought about how the Bells would make Nathan go after Phoebe.

But the case was solved. There were still questions, sure, but the main problem had been cleared up. However, I didn't feel any real relief.