Page 39 of Across Space and Time

“Then I shall provide some questions to start,” The Owner replied. “Tell me, Constable, do you believe in magic?”

Hugh could not stop turning to Spring-Heeled Jack next to him, who gazed back at him without his expression changing. Jack had asked him the exact same question. “I have never put much stock in that sort of thing,” he said slowly. “Until I met Jack.”

The Owner smiled and waved his hand lightly. “One doesn’t have to believe in something for it to be true.”

“What should I believe?” Hugh asked.

“What do you believe?” The Owner asked.

“I believe someone is killing young men on the street and burned down the bakery when I found out about it. Someone of flesh and blood, like you or I.”

“Ah, yes. The killer is flesh and blood,” The Owner agreed with a knowing smile. “But, like you or I, well, that is another matter entirely.” He suddenly clapped his hands together, and the sound echoed like a pistol shot in the stillness of the shop. “Now, what questions do you have for me?”

Hugh frowned thoughtfully. “When the viscount attacked me in the alley and Jack came to my rescue, he was not a man, but a beast of some kind. Jagged teeth, a distended jaw, bowed legs. Jack set him on fire when he lunged at me. And while the flames were hot, when I examined the man’s corpse, he looked entirely human again. Well, as human as a burned corpse can. Do you know if it is possible for a man to transform himself from a creature back into a man after death?”

“I would imagine that some magic would be dependent on the host being alive,” The Owner said. “So, I would think it quite possible.”

“Elysium came to you for magic supplies. What kind of magic were they doing?”

“As I said, very basic,” The Owner said.

“Anything that could cause someone to transform like that?”

“Not with what they purchased from me,” The Owner said.

Hugh frowned at the odd turn of phrase. The Owner obviously did not freely give information unless asked, so he had to figure out what he was supposed to ask about.

“The viscount had in his pocket a piece of gold paper from the Elysium Emporium where he purchased an apple turnover.”

“Was that a question?” The Owner asked, tipping his head slightly and giving Hugh a smile.

It hadn’t been, but Hugh wasn’t really sure what sort of question to ask.

“Did they purchase anything related to apples?” Jack suddenly piped in, making Hugh jump.

“Apples,” The Owner said thoughtfully. “My, that is quite unusual, isn’t it? But, then, I do specialize in the unusual.”

“That you do,” Jack said with a flick of his hand to encompass the entire shop.

“Have you? Sold anything related to apples recently? To Elysium, or anyone else?” Hugh asked.

The Owner cocked his head and rubbed at his chin, as if trying to remember, though Hugh had a strong suspicion that the man knew exactly what he was doing. “Not recently,” he said. “But how much do you know about growing apples?”

“Not very much,” Hugh admitted.

“You know where apples come from.”

“Trees,” Hugh said, with a slight frown.

“Indeed.”

The Owner went silent, and Hugh tried not to sigh. The Owner wasn’t going to tell him directly, just keep spoon-feeding him clues. “Do you sell apple trees?”

“No,” The Owner said with a small smile. “Not trees.”

Where did trees come from? Hugh had not had much reason to think about such a thing before, but he realized what The Owner was hinting at. Something much smaller than a tree. “Did you ever sell apple seeds? Perhaps not recently, but in the past?”

“Ah, you are a bright one,” The Owner said. “I did indeed. Nine years ago.”

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