Heretical Fishing

Chapter 56: Interrogation

Theo stared the man down, waiting for a response.

George cleared his throat.

"Well, you see, the thing is..."

George gesticulated, searching for the correct word or phrase; Theo was happy to let him squirm.

While Theo rarely liked the reputation his profession held—that of inscrutable and ruthless investigators—he didn't mind leaning into the stereotype when it got him what he wanted.

And right now, what he wanted was to learn what was going on with Tropica's taxes.

He kept George pinned down with his glare, and he steepled his fingers, leaning his elbows on the table.

His wife walked into the room carrying a tray laden with a porcelain tea set. She bustled over to the end of the table and set the tray down between the two men.

"Excuse my rudeness," Theo said. "I'm not sure I caught your name."

"A pleasure. I'm Theo."

Her hands shook as she reached for the porcelain.

"Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Please."

He looked between Geraldine and George, watching for any hidden communication.

They studiously ignored each other, Geraldine pouring two cups of tea, and George accepting his with a small nod to the table.

She crossed her hands behind her back, trying to hide their trembling from Theo.

"Can I get you anything else?"

"No, Geraldine. Thank you for the tea."

Theo picked up his cup and sipped it.

It was black tea, mixed with passiona husk and something that tasted of vanilla.

He breathed out a content sigh, happy to indulge in a more-expensive blend of tea after traveling through small villages for over a week.

Geraldine left the room, once more leaving George alone with him.

"So, where were we?"

Theo tapped the table.

"That's right! You were going to tell me how you managed to lower taxes. How did you manage that, George?"

George set his jaw and began talking.

"Well, the thing is..."

Seeing that George had collected his wits, Theo sought to scatter them again.

"Oh! I forgot a formality. You are aware of what a crown auditor is, right, George?"

"Yes..."

"And you're aware of the extensive training we're required to undergo, yes?"

George gulped.

"Y-yes..."

"That's good. It means I'll have to explain a lot less to you. The formality that I'm required to tell you is this: I will know if you lie to me. If you conceal facts, twist words, or otherwise attempt to mislead me, things will only get worse for you."

The latter sentence, that of knowing about attempted misdirection, was a lie—it was entirely possible for people to slip information past an auditor if they were clever enough, but George didn’t need to know that.

Theo leaned back, shaking his head and smiling to himself.

"It’s only an issue if you have something to hide, of course, which I'm sure you don't."

George nodded and smiled, but it held no real mirth.

"So," Theo said. "Feel free to explain the taxes. Sorry for interrupting you."

He shrugged.

"You know how the crown can get with the formalities."

George took another sip of tea, his hand shaking as he put the cup back on the saucer.

"Yes, well, the thing is, we raised the taxes temporarily."

Theo nodded, keeping his face unreadable.

"I figured that to be the case. Are they now lowered to the base amount?"

"Y-yes!"

Theo pulled a notepad and pencil from his pocket, scribbling down notes.

"Good... that's good."

He looked back up at George.

"How high did they get?"

"Triple..."

Theo scribbled more notes, keeping his face still.

"Triple. Got it."

He set the pencil down, crossing his fingers on the desk in front of him.

"Did you know that I was coming to Tropica? Is that why you lowered the taxes today?"

"N-No! I swear on my life!"

Theo watched him closely, analyzing his words.

He's telling the truth... fascinating.

"How long have the taxes been raised?"

"Th-three to four years..."

Theo drew on his pad, set the pencil down again, and stared into George's eyes.

"Was it triple the rate of tax for all those years?"

"N-no! It was only the last two months that it was so high."

"The skimmed taxes—what did you do with them?"

George reached for his handkerchief, wiping the bullets of sweat from his face.

Theo could tell he was stalling—thinking of how to word it while still telling the truth. He let him.

"Well," George said, then took a drink of tea to ease his dry-sounding throat. "It went toward many things. Most recently, I bought a coffee machine for the village to use. I organized for the owner of a bakery to sell the coffee at a rate affordable for all the peasants."

"That's good," Theo said, drawing again. "Using extra taxes to benefit the common folk isn't unheard of..."

George jumped at the lifeline.

"Right! We took extra money, but we've been putting it all back toward the village."

Theo raised an eyebrow.

That was a lie, but that's hardly surprising...

He said nothing, knowing silence to be the most effective tool in an interrogator's arsenal.

George, no doubt realizing he'd been caught in a lie, rushed to continue.

"W-well, not all the funds have been given back toward the village. Much was invested in commodities that we speculated would go up in price..."

Theo waited to see if George would continue; he didn’t.

"Are you still in possession of these investments?"

George's eyebrow twitched, and a muscle in his neck tensed for a fraction of a second, a hint of genuine anger breaking through his anxiety.

"No. They were lost to the sea."

Theo's brain went into overdrive following the lord's words.

They were true.

They invested in something they speculated would go up in price, and they lost them at sea...?

"What were these... commodities?"

George drank from his cup, stalling.

"Pearls," he eventually said, anger creeping into his voice. "As they're a non-renewable precious stone, we believed they would only go up in price."

"I see."

Theo drew on his notepad some more, making precise and measured strokes with his pencil.

He set the writing utensil aside and looked back up at George.

"Have you spent any of the taxes on personal expenses?"

The village lord set his jaw and cast his gaze down.

"Yes."

"What did you spend them on?"

"Upgrades to our home, and pastries."

"It's not his fault!" Geraldine called, bursting into the room and rushing to George.

Theo watched her calmly as she gripped her husband's shoulders with shaking hands.

"Explain."

"I—I wanted more! It was my fault! If you have to drag anyone back to the capital, take me!"

"Geraldine!"

George pushed his chair back and stood, his eyes going wide.

"I'm the lord of Tropica, so if anyone has to take the fall for my mistakes—"

Theo cleared his throat, slicing through their objections.

"Why don't you both take a seat?"

George sat back down immediately, and Geraldine pulled out the chair beside him. They held hands, and with his wife beside him, Theo could see George's anxiety recede, if only a little.

He looked between them, keeping his gaze neutral.

"From what I've heard, there’s no reason for anyone to be punished at this stage."

George opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, and his brows knitted together in confusion.

"There isn't?" Geraldine asked, her eyes wide as saucers.

"Not at this stage, no."

He opened his notepad again, looking over what he'd jotted down.

"You'd hardly be the first lord of a small village to misappropriate funds... but let me be clear."

Theo put just the right amount of judgment into his voice.

"Your actions have gone against your oath to the crown, and should you be caught doing so again, the full weight of his majesty's justice will be brought down upon you. In fact, had you not put so much of the taxes back into a service for the village, both of you would be coming with me back to the capital. In chains."

Geraldine's jaw trembled, and she gripped her husband's hand harder.

"A s-service?" George stammered.

"Yes. A service."

Theo glanced down at his notepad.

"The coffee machine. I believe it will both benefit the villagers, and potentially increase the future tax yield for the crown. It was a savvy move, one that demonstrates your care for your charges, and your commitment to his majesty."

"O-of course!" George all but yelled. "Even before you arrived, we recognized that our past actions were wrong, which is why, with the delivery of the coffee machine, we lowered the taxes to the amount set by the crown."

Theo nodded at the statement, hearing the truth it held.

"Good to hear."

He stood, collected his things, and gave them both a small bow.

"That should be all for today. I'll be staying in the village until the caravan leaves, so I may come see you again tomorrow morning."

Geraldine stood in a hurry.

"Y-You're staying? Do you need somewhere to sleep? We have plenty of spare rooms, and you're more than welcome to spend the night with us. It might not be up to the capital's standards, but you'll find it more accommodating than staying with the mercha—"

"That would be lovely," Theo interrupted, walking out of the room. "Thank you."

"We'll prepare a room!" George said, also rushing to stand.

Theo hurried down the stairs and stepped from the home into the morning air.

He stood on the step, inhaling the fresh, salty air.

Thank Themis’ scales that’s over. I’m glad I didn’t have to arrest anyone today.

A smile came to his face as he started walking, going to see something he’d been waiting to see the entire time spent with the caravan.

I’m finally going to see the ocean.

***

As Roger opened his door, he was filled with a field's worth of mixed emotions.

The taxes had come down, which was more than welcome.

We won't have any issue paying for Sharon's medicine...

With that thought, though, came the knowledge that she was still sick.

He quietly closed the door behind him, not wanting to disturb her rest.

With soft footsteps, he made his way toward their bedroom.

And he heard talking.

Roger froze, confused.

Then, realizing that Barry had brought someone else into his home without permission, he marched for the open bedroom door, his conflicted emotions all channeling toward his misplaced fury.

He rounded the corner.

"Barry, you—"

The words froze at what he saw, and he barely recognized Barry standing in the room.

His eyes were fixated on a single thing—the rock that held their family together, the source of both his life's joy and his recent misery.

Sharon.

She was awake.

He didn't feel himself move, but he was at the bed in the blink of an eye, taking his wife's offered hands.

"Sharon..."

Tears fell, and he made no effort to hide them.

***

Barry stepped from the room, giving the couple the space they deserved.

Before he could make it from the home, he heard soft cries that were definitely not Sharon's, and he felt a spark of guilt for having heard such a raw moment.

As he closed the front door behind him, the emotions of it all hit.

Without Fischer's arrival, and without Barry's intervention, Sharon would have continued wasting away, afflicted by an illness that would have proved fatal.

Because of his actions, she was free of the illness and would make a full recovery.

He laughed, the sound turning harsh and choking as tears started to fall.

***

"This is amazing, Fischer," Maria said, taking another sip of coffee.

I nodded, taking a drink of my own.

"Wait until the caffeine kicks in—that's when it gets really good."

She put the cup to her lips again, letting out a content sigh as the flavors assaulted her.

"You're sure you want to help us carry our crops to the merchant, though? It'll take us a few trips without you, but you've already done so much..."

I shook my head.

"I'm happy to help. Besides, I'm already coming to your home—there's no way I'd miss the look on Barry and your dad's face when they have their first coffee."

We each held an extra cup of the golden liquid, and I couldn't wait to see the farmers' reactions.

Maria smiled.

"I know I've thanked you already, probably too much, but again, thank you. I'm so glad you chose our little village to settle in."

I returned the smile.

"There's nowhere I'd rather be. I'm surrounded by water to fish in, and the best people I've ever met."

She swept hair behind her ear as best she could with a cup of coffee already occupying her hand, and I marveled at her beauty.

Realizing I was staring, I cleared my throat and looked away.

We stepped from between two fields of cane, and as we caught sight of Maria's home, we both came up short.

Barry stood at the front door, tears streaming down his face.

Maria dropped both her cups, one empty, the other full.

"No..."

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