Chapter 2.8 - In which Lieutenant Robards regrets his life choices

Calder

Month 12, Day 19, Saturday 6:30 p.m.

Mrs. Irving’s shock quickly turned to anger. “My son was involved in a theft, and none of you informed me?” She stood up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “How dare you?” she demanded, her voice rising. “You accused my son of a crime without involving a legal guardian?”

Calder held up his hands, trying to defuse the situation. “I think there has been a misunderstanding. Percy was not arrested or charged with a crime. To the contrary, Percy’s actions in that incident were quite heroic. We didn’t inform you because no charges were brought against him.” And, privately, Percy had not wanted her to know.

Mr. Bourgeron’s eyes shining with excitement, somehow oblivious to the tense charge filling the room. “Heroic? Do tell!” he said, turning expectantly to Percy.

The solicitor beside him sighed heavily. “Mr. Bourgeron, please…”

Captain Hay leaned back in his chair. “Heroic or not, the fact remains that both of these young men kept their involvement in a rogue magic incident a secret. It doesn’t exactly inspire confidence in their integrity.”

“There are no laws requiring citizens who have not been brought in for questioning to volunteer statements,” the solicitor interjected blandly.

Mrs. Irving slowly sat back down, though her blazing gaze remained trained on Captain Hay.

Calder looked at Percy. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?” he asked, trying to keep any judgment out of his tone.

Mr. Bourgeron responded before Percy could. “We had to keep silent to protect the innocent. After all, you haven’t caught the perpetrators yet, so who knows what they might do to our loved ones?”

Mrs. Irving huffed scornfully. To Mr. Bourgeron, she said, “I cannot speak for you, though I feel sympathy for your poor parents. But you!” She turned to her son. “You’re a child, Percy! Have you no common sense? When you get into trouble, you’re not supposed to try and handle it on your own, you’re supposed to tell an actually competent adult who can take responsibility and deal with the situation properly.”

Percy cringed. “I was planning to tell someone,” he said quietly. “I tried to find Lieutenant Robards at the station, but he was out sick. I…I didn’t know what to do after that. And Tennyson’s right. I was worried about retaliation, and I didn’t think that my witness statement would actually help you find them,” he said, looking up at Calder. “It was only bad luck that I got involved at all, and the whole time, I was just doing my best to escape.”

Mr. Bourgeron leaned past his solicitor and gripped Percy’s shoulder. “You’re selling yourself short!” He turned to Calder. “Percy threw himself into danger without any expectation of reward, just hoping to find someone he could save. He didn’t even care about his reputation or appearance, and was willing to ruin his clothing. When I first met him, Percy was covered in blood and organ juice!” He ran his hands dramatically down his face and over his body, punctuated with a delicate shudder. “Obviously, he doesn’t act for glory.”

Percy stared at Mr. Bourgeron in horror, shaking his head back and forth subtly.

The solicitor contradicted him calmly. “What my client means is that Mr. Irving appeared to have some unidentified substances dirtying his person and clothing.” He turned to the gangly young man. “Be. Quiet,” he ordered, enunciating slowly and carefully as if talking to someone who barely understood the language.

Mr. Bourgeron shrank back into his seat.

Percy squeezed his eyes shut as if in pain, then turned to gave Calder a wordless, questioning look, jerking his head subtly toward the blank-faced solicitor.

Calder knew Percy well enough to interpret this as a query about whether the man’s tactics would actually work to protect a client. Calder’s answer was a silent grimace. That was a grey area, especially with Mr. Bourgeron still being a minor. There was precedence for arguing that certain self-incriminating statements were a result of trauma and couldn’t be taken as testimony without the scrutiny of a prognos. Though Calder may have had a few drops of magical blood somewhere in his ancestry, he didn’t meet those requirements. Unfair as it was, the law tended to bend when one had enough gold to bury it under. In this case, that might actually work in Percy’s favor.

As Percy continued to give his statement, Mr. Bourgeron squirmed with the pent-up desire to give his own version of events.

When Percy explained how they had found two of the coppers unconscious and seemingly drunk, the other young man piped up, “Percy’s arms may have been too noodly to carry them, but his strategic genius led us to abandon the fallen officers and lead the blood sorcerer away.”

The solicitor pinched the bridge of his nose, reached over, and grabbed his client’s hand. Thereafter, every time Mr. Bourgeron so much as opened his mouth, the man squeezed his hand until the boy closed it again.

Though Calder tended to dislike criminal defense solicitors, his felt a deep pang of sympathy for the man and couldn’t help but question his own choices, which had led him to taking charge of this situation.

When Percy was finished, Calder turned to Mr. Bourgeron. Though he winced internally, he asked, “Do you agree fully with Mr. Irving’s statement, or is there anything you would like to add or rectify?”

The solicitor’s grip grew white-knuckled with the pressure he was applying, and the boy winced. “I agree with it all,” he said reluctantly. Unfortunately, they still had to hear his account of the parts that Percy hadn’t been there for, and Captain Hay asked several probing questions of both boys in an attempt to get something incriminating out of them.

Another hour had passed before Mr. Bourgeron, finally growing frustrated with the process, leaned back with his arms crossed over his chest. “At the last moment of our escape, we faced a second blood sorcerer, whose mere presence was so terrifying that lesser men might have soiled themselves! They ran away, and we deduced it would be best to do the same, lest we encounter whatever had terrified them so.” He paused, a look of consideration crossing his face. “Though, now that I mention it, perhaps they recognized me and were afraid of retaliation by my family. My father is rather vengeful, and he has connections.”

The solicitor’s composure finally cracked, and he let out an audible groan. “What my client means is that they believe they saw another individual from a distance, and fled in completely understandable fear for their lives.”

Captain Hay’s face had been growing redder with each minute that passed, and by now it was the particular shade of puce that meant the man was about to explode.

Mrs. Irving seemed to be regretting her decision to bring her son in, and made no effort to disguise her disdain for Calder’s boss. She was now in full protective mode toward Percy. “I think my son has been through enough. You have his statement, and seeing as he committed no crime and has not been arrested, we will be leaving now.” She stood, one hand on Percy’s arm to pull him up.

Captain Hay finally exploded. “He’s been through enough? Mrs. Irving, your son’s actions have been undermining the rule of law!”

The woman’s voice cracked with anger. “The rule of law? That’s rich coming from the man whose subordinates were found drunk on duty!” she snapped back.

Hay’s face drained of color, from his forehead down to his neck.

Calder held back a cringe, and noticed Percy doing the exact same.

Captain Hay’s voice thundered out at full volume. “My coppers were courageous, upstanding men who were attacked and drugged while carrying out their duty! They could have been killed! And your son has a history of being involved in suspicious circumstances. This is the second time he’s accidentally gotten directly involved in a crime, aiding the criminal!”

“My son has a history of being a hero and helping people!” Mrs. Irving slammed her hands down onto the table and leaned over it as if she wanted to lunge across and bite Captain Hay.

To his credit, Captain Hay remained seated. He crossed his arms. “That’s not how the reports read, ma’am,” he retorted with biting, sudden calmness.

Mrs. Irving’s voice rose, pitching to the edge of shrillness. “Well, maybe your hacks need to learn how to write an unbiased report!”

Calder’s headache intensified. This was not the way to go about opposing Hay. The man was incapable of backing down from a perceived threat, and adding on questions of incompetency would only make it worse. And from a civilian, no less?

“There’s a fine line between being a good Samaritan and being a vigilante. The latter of which, I might remind you, is illegal. No citizen may take the Crowns’ law into their own hands.”

Mrs. Irving drew herself back upright. She took a single deep breath. “And there’s a fine line between upholding the law and harassing innocent citizens, Captain Hay.”

Percy seemed to be trying to make himself as small as possible in his chair.

Hay slammed a palm on the table loudly enough that Mr. Bourgeron and Percy both jumped.

The solicitor let out a long, low sigh and adjusted his glasses, then guided his blonde charge toward the door and placed himself between the boy and the rest of the room like a human shield.

Slowly, Captain Hay stood up, his chair letting out a long, high-pitched shriek as it scraped against the floor. He pointed a finger at Mrs. Irving, his voice low and menacing. “Woman, let me be crystal clear. One more incident, and I’m charging your son with vigilantism, reckless endangerment, and obstruction of justice faster than you can say ‘innocent bystander.’”

Mr. Bourgeron’s solicitor raised his hand and interjected, “My client only met Mr. Irving two days ago, and is in no way affiliated or in cahoots with Mr. Irving, whose actions and possible past or future crimes are his own.”

Some News: Many of you know about my neuro-immmune disorder diagnosis earlier this year, and have been around for the changes I implemented to make my work/life more healthy and sustainable.

Well, I had some abnormal pain recently, went to the doctor, and after waiting many weeks for some imaging appointments, have been given some concerning news. I don't want to get into detail until I know more, but it's extremely likely that I will need to have surgery soon. That may not be the end of it; treatment could be ongoing. 

I mention this because it's already affecting my writing schedule and will definitely continue to do so until I've gone through and recovered from surgery, which I still have no timeline on. 

I'm still working on my books and writing, but only in chunks here and there, not with the, "It's my day job and sometimes my night job, too!" mentality that I tend to slip into. It seems a bit unrealistic to think that I can hit my November 6th goal for releasing the first chapter of PGTS Book 7. Until I know more from the doctors, I can't really make projections on the release timeline, though I will continue to work on the writing and will definitely be making progress, just...slowly. 

This might also cause some delays with the chapters of The Catastrophe Collector that I've been putting out, since each needs some heavy editing/re-writing before I release it, and a few still need to be written from scratch. If possible, I'll continue to release them in the Thursday spot until I've got PGTS chapters to give you guys. 

Hopefully I will have some more concrete news about what the future holds soon. 

If anyone would like to request a refund for their previous or next Patreon payment, just message me. 

Weekly discussion thread on the Alcove: https://alcove.azaleaellis.com/t/chapter-2-8-weekly-discussion-in-which-lieutenant-robards-questions-his-life-choices/869