Detective Hispida and the Coin of Temptation

She knocked on the door twice, no response, after the 3rd knock a mildly annoyed irritated voice responded.

“Come in!!!”

The door clicked open, she turned the handle and peeked inside. Sign on the door read ‘Detective Hispidate expedited investigation services.’.

“How may I be of assistance?”

Spoke a tall man behind the desk at the far end of the room. Before him, on the table rested a puzzle of 3 metal pieces bound together in an intricate way. She approached the table cautiously, while the detective seemingly did not pull his focus from the puzzle before him. His table was surprisingly tidy, except for 3 large stacks of various paperworks neatly organized into three piles each larger than the previous, and pushed to the edges of the table, out of the way. Beside the puzzle rested a closed notebook and a pencil.

“Yes?”

He inquired of his guest.

“I uhm, my name is Mary, I was referred by a friend, erhm, Claudia… She…”

Began Mary but her sentence was interrupted by Hispida.

“Ah yes the case of kidnapped boy who in reality turned out to have run away from home, I remember it quite well.”

He looked up from the puzzle for the briefest of moments and smiled.

“How may I help?”

She sighed in relief ‘he does seem professional at least.’.

“I would like to request an investigation into my husband.”

Hispida let out a curious ‘hmm’ grunt as his attention returned to the puzzle.

“Suspect cheating? Too basic of a case…”

But to his surprise, she shook her head.

“No, it’s something else.”

“Mhmmm,” replied Hispida rather disinterested.

“At nights he disappears often, for ‘business’ as he calls it.”

A piece came unstuck and Hispida successfully removed it, just two to go.

“Is he a businessman?”

He asked, still only half interested.

“He’s… well, sort of… My husband is Sir Cremal de Varsol.”

Hispida’s jaw dropped open at the name as he glanced up at her.

“THE Cremal de Varsol? Most influential man in the city after the mayor?”

She nodded.

“Oh, well, my apologies for the disrespect, Mrs de Varsol.”

He gave her a respectful nod and then disrespectfully returned his attention to the puzzle.

“Sounds like a generic case of involvement with the underground scene, organized crime, shady business. Nothing too out of ordinary for the Oligarchs, no?”

She shook her head.

“While it’s true that many get involved, some against their will, Cremal isn’t like that… He’s a nobleman who cherishes, well.. cherished, family traditions and customs. He would never dishonor his ancestors and get involved with the scum of the city!”

She protested, her voice raised slightly. He grinned.

“An unsuspecting wife to a corrupt influential man, I’ve seen too many cases like this.”

She grunted.

“Ugh! Fine, I’ll find somebody else.”

Hispida raised his eyebrow and smirked.

“No, I didn’t say that. I’m just preparing you for the worst-case scenario. What raised your suspicions the most in his case? Sneaking out at night hardly seems out of ordinary for someone so powerful.”

She clenched onto her bag, then took a deep breath and opened it, pulling out a polaroid photo from inside. The photo was of Cremal de Varsol, a bulky, middle-aged man with a mustache far too fabulous to even be called a mustache. Square jaw, rich clothes. A typical picture of an Oligarch, but in the photo, his eyes looked tired, and his hand rested on a cane with an ‘infinity’ symbol engraved with gold. He shrugged.

“And…?”

He prompted her to continue, since the photo seemed out of place and unimportant on its own. She pulled out another photo, they didn’t seem to be that far apart in time. But in this photo, he smiled, and had no cane, instead in his hand he held a coin. Hispida pulled the second polaroid closer and examined it. The coin was antique, different from any he had ever seen before.

“What’s with the coin?”

She sighed.

“That’s the part that raised my concerns, it’s a family heirloom that had been passed on for four generations! He never parted with it, not even in his sleep… and suddenly, it’s gone, traded for that cane.”

She tapped the first photo where Cremal’s hand was resting on a cane.

“Interesting… very interesting.”

Hispida glanced at both photos, they were taken in Cremal’s personal office. It would seem there were other minor differences among the photos that he noticed, such as a larger pile of paperwork on the shelf behind him, which seemed to be behind on work. Messier table, more tired look in his eyes. ‘Golden infinity… Infinity…’.

“OH I GOT IT!”

He exclaimed. Mary gapsed.

“What? Already?”

She asked excitedly. Hispida grinned, pulling the two pieces apart at last and grinning.

“Yap! Finally solved this level 4 puzzle!”

Mary let out an annoyed sigh.

“Are you sure you…”

Hispida glanced from the puzzle pieces to the photos and then pointed at the subtle differences in the photos that he had made a mental note of and then pondered for a minute.

“I’ll take this case. First order of business would be for me to inspect the house, and his personal office, if at all possible, but preferably without his presence, or any of the service staff.”

Mary tilted her head to the side.

“I’ll need to double check his schedule, I can order a break hour for all the service staff at any time, would that suffice?”

Hispida shook his head.

“Two would be preferred but if one is all I can get i’ll make it work. Give me a call back tomorrow with a date and time when he’ll be guaranteed out of the house.”

She nodded and he continued,.

“In the meantime I’ll begin digging into the coin and the cane… Know where he bought it from?”

She shook her head, he jotted down some quick notes in the notebook and nodded.

“Very well, might I keep the photos?”

She nodded once more and replied with a gentle smile,.

“Sure, that won’t be a problem.”

He grabbed scissors and made quick work of the pictures. Cutting out the objects of interest to preserve anonymity of the subject in the photos and to protect his case and confidentiality. She stared at that with a surprised but a blank stare, unsure if she should protest, inquire about it or just say nothing. He took a bit of glue and glued the pieces into the notebook, then closed it and swept the rest into a bin that he then casually brought to the fireplace in his room and threw the pieces in it.

That evening, Hispida found himself in the library’s archives. His good friend, Silas, was a chief librarian, a scholar most knowledgeable about the history and culture of Thornwood, a town that grew to become one of the largest culture hubs in their country. Silas found the articles, newspapers and books referring to the coin in the photo quite quickly. It was an antique coin from the Walera empire days, it was a coin from the last batch to be transported to the continent of Zima, but the carrying vessel sank. It was rediscovered by treasure hunters. Baron Gryle de Varsol was a founder of the treasure hunters, and that’s where the majority of the de Varsol influential wealth came from. Hispida made notes of it. It was a very unique artifact, to trade it for a cane seemed absurd. However, no notes or information could be found on the cane, or the golden infnity symbol. Nor did Silas manage to dig up any information as to who might’ve sold such an odd item for such a high price. The case was becoming more interesting. They searched far and deep but it was all in vain. As HIspida was about to depart the library and head home to rest, a picture on the wall caught his attention.

“Silas?” called out Hispida to his friend who was packing up the book-trolley to take back the books.

“Hmm? What’s up?”

He asked, turning away from the trolley and following Hispida’s gaze to a large painting on the wall. It was a painting of Count Rose, one of the founders of the city. A painting from roughly 500 years ago, where he sat on a throne, and behind him, on the back rest was a golden embedded symbol, that looked like half of an ‘infinity’ symbol.

“Is that…?”

He squinted at the symbol. Silas examined the painting.

“What? I don’t see anything out of ordinary.”

Hispida squinted.

“The backrest.”

He pointed out. Silas shrugged.

“The… golden circle? Part of it at least.”

Hispida glanced at him.

“Yea, sorry, I’m looking far too deep into it! Good night friend.”

They parted, Hispida went to rest. The morning after, Mary de Varsol gave him a call to his personal number and informed him that her husband will be in the next city over with the mayor for a banquet regarding some charity, and that the house would be free for his examination.

Two days passed, the investigation seemed to have come to a halt. Nobody knew what the infinity symbol meant, nobody encountered it, but oddly enough, and likely just due to hyperfocusing on it, Hispida began to notice the symbol making frequent appearances. He never noticed before that the city center had an infinity loop in it. He never paid attention to the fact that the city administration building had the very symbol engraved on the front of it, albeit turned at 45 degrees, and a mirrored double of it – to look like a four leaf clover. The day had come at last. He went to the de Varsol’s estate. The service staff were all out of the house, Mary let him in. They walked the vast halls of the estate to Cremal’s personal office. On the way there HIspida paused by a painting of a rich looking man and his family surrounding him, in his hand, between the fingers, he held a coin, the same one that he had seen in Cremal’s photo.

“Painting of Jake de Varsol, Cremal’s grandfather.”

Hispida nodded.

“That is one well cherished and loved heirloom, that coin.”

He turned to follow Mary.

“As I said, he never parted with it before.”

She responded. In Cremal’s office at last, Hispida’s attention was first caught by the stack of paperwork that was overflowing from the shelf behind his desk onto the floor. Mary stepped away.

“He never permits even me into his office… Please don’t touch anything and leave no trace.”

Hispida nodded.

“Feel free to follow in to observe my work if you desire.”

He offered casually, she accepted the invite rather enthusiastically, curious to see what a detective at work is like.

At first he carefully examined a top folder from the top of the stack on the shelf. Paperwork, funds request from the city’s mayor.

Dear Sire de Varsol.

As represantative […] humbly request funding in the amount of 570 000 for a new children’s hospital.

Mija Kalmatose, city mayor.

Next few were much the same, some from the city and some from private companies or individuals. Nothing of interest, but rather strange.

“Say, de Varsol has always been a rather generous family in terms of donations and fundings, right?”

Inquired Hispida curiously. Mary nodded.

“Correct, our family has never turned down a funding request for anything, lest it’s absolutely absurd.”

Hispida nodded, carefully replacing the folders in the exact same manner he pulled them off. He checked the table, it was surprisingly empty. A few opened letters. He examined them all in order. First was a letter of gratitude for a research fund. Second was an invitation to the charity banquet to which he left, and lastly, a strange letter he couldn’t make any sense out of. Some words in the letter were highlighted for no obvious reason.

“Dear Sire de Varsol. We of the [redacted] fund thoroughly appreciate and cherish your generous donation for our good cause in the amount of [redacted]. We accept your token and as a symbol of our gratitude, invite you to the celebration of our new hyena’s den. Our cause persists and we shall not diverge from the true path set by the rose. Follow the thorns and remember well, that hyenas prefer to stay in the shade. Yours truly [redacted].”

He read it out loud a second time to Mary whose blank stare was enough of an answer that he didn’t need to inquire whether any of this made any sense or was known to her.

“Hyena’s Den?”

She inquired. Hispida shrugged.

“Never heard of it, don’t think there’s a club or anything by that name in the vicinity. I’ll look into it.”

He pulled out a polaroid photo camera and snapped a picture of the strange letter, then neatly tucked it back into the envelope and placed it back exactly where and how it was. He examined the drawers, nothing of interest in them, except a fake bottom in the top drawer. Inside he found a price evaluation by the Gromer’s Pawn Shop, for the antique coin of all things. But the invoice had an odd note about it. ‘Category: Token.’ And a seal of evaluation at the bottom of it. He snapped a photo of it as well. ‘Very well, Gromer’s Pawn shop it is… But first…’ He grinned and closed the drawers carefully.

On the way to pawn shop, he made a stop by a friend of his, a jeweler. He showed him photos, and reference articles and newspapers to those coins. They were made of pure gold, not an alloy. Would cost a pretty penny, but perhaps the coin would help him get in to this ‘hyena’s den.’ The jeweler hesitated at first, t’was no easy task to replicate an antique coin without having 1 for reference, but Hispida convinced him that fine details were rather irrelevant as many of the coin owners seemingly carried them around for ‘good luck’ all the time. Leaving out the details and the reason why he needed a replica of said coin. The jeweler agreed, and being friends with the detective, a favor for a favor goes a long way. The coin replication was made a top priority, and a coin was made in mere 17 hours. The jeweler stayed closed for two days to complete the order, and Hispida now owed him a favor, but he had a coin on hand that looked antique and worn out from centuries of handling. Finest job anyone could’ve ever done.

At the shop he was greeted by a smell of stale air. A typical pawnshop, mixture of dust and fragrance of old and unused items. Too typical and ordinary, but he had never been to this shop before. At the counter, on the wall, hung two clocks, old wooden clocks, side by side, shaping a symbol of infinity.

“Hurr, cough! Ahem… Hi! Howr murr I harp you?”

(How may I help you?) Spoke a man who walked to the counter slowly, with a heavy limp. Half of his face seemed paralyzed and his speech was hard to understand. Hispida smiled.

“Oh, greetings, I’m here to evaluate a, erhm…

“ He lowered his voice.

“A family heirloom.”

The man raised an eyebrow.

“A heirrrrroom? Shorrr meerr.”

(Heirloom? Show me) Hispida took the coin replica out of his pocket and placed it on the table, sliding it confidently toward the shop owner. The man slowly diverted his gaze down at the coin and then returned a half smile.

“Warrttt hurr!”

(wait here) Atheris nodded. A few minutes later the man returned with an appraisal invoice of the coin that the man slid toward him on the counter. He examined it, it had much the same category: token, a seal, and a signature on it.

“And… where do I find… the…” his voice lowered to a hushed whisper.

“Hyena’s den?”

The shop owner grinned at him.

“Ar luturr wurr ber sunttt. Lurrrv yer adrsss.”

(A letter will be sent. Leave your address) He did as was instructed, but he was no fool, he left a bakery shop’s address, where his friend resided too. Few days later, he was informed of an arrival of letter address to ‘Sir Labedov Laberdev.’ Coming up with fake names was not his strong point. The letter was the same as the 1 he read at the de Varsol’s residence. But it included a small notecard in it too, a notecard with a simple drawing of a map, location marked with a cross in the woods, and a message next to it.

“BURN ME.”

He memorized the map, while the card burned, a date and time appeared for the briefest of moments, and text.

“Lemniscate Society.”

. He mustered his courage and went to the spot on the noted date and time. At the entrance to the forest he spotted men with handheld lanterns lining the perimeter. He was asked for his name, the man checked a list, and then handed him a flashlight, but no ordinary flashlight.

“Follow the trail the light shows Sir Laberdev, and you shall arrive at the Hyena’s Den.”

When he shone the light at the path and trees, he could see arrows and trail to follow. It was incredibly easy to follow it but the light had him curious. It emitted orange red’ish glow, a strange light wavelength, and the paint used to mark the path was reactive to it. How odd, creative, secretive. His heart raced as he curiously walked the path.

He indeed arrived at a den, from which a path led into a cave. Down the dimly illuminated stone staircase, deeper and deeper into the cave. Off in the distance he heard echoes of voices, many voices, dozens of them. He was greeted by an acolyte at the bottom of the stairs who traded him a hood to wear for the flashlight that was no longer necessary. He put the hood on and went past them into the large open hall, a gathering room of sorts, it truly resembled a den. At the center of it was a stone altar, stained in dried, old blood. The altar was decorated by a repeating, intertwining wave pattern that formed infinity symbols.

‘Well, definitely the right place.’ He noted to himself. Half an hour later, two men walked to the middle of it. One wore red robes and the other wore emerald green robes. Both wore the same hood as his, that covered their faced with a veil, but he knew that 1 of them was Cremal de Varsol just from the body proportions and the cane. The other one, beside him, he assumed to be a descendant of the Rose family. They took turns welcoming the honorable and noble guests, abstaining from mentioning any names. At last Cremal took over the speech.

“I desire to welcome the new members of the lemniscate society tonight. I see at least three new hoods present tonight.”

He remarked, making sure to look at each of the ‘new members’, including Hispida. ‘Shit… in hindsight… I should’ve changed my clothes… these ones will have to be burned’ he thought to himself and gave the speaker a respectful nod.

“Brothers of the infinity! Our families honored the ancient ones and we must take on their traditions now.”

He made sure to repeat key terms the speakers spoke in his mind to memorize them better. ‘Lemniscate’ ‘infinity’ and ‘brotherhood.’ He remained seated and still, listening attentively. ‘Well that’s where the funds are going I suppose… but they mentioned honorable and noble, this society must be loaded.’ What happened next shocked him to the bone, as a young maiden was dragged out of the shadows by a hooded acolyte, she was unconscious, wearing nothing but a thin gawn. Her body was tossed onto the altar and spread out. The introduction to the society continued.

“Long ago our forefathers swore loyalty to the infinite ocean. The ocean that brought forth to them the wealth that makes us all who we are. They were sailors and treasure hunters, and the treasures the ocean gifted them, gave us all the power, influence and wealth we have today! The coins are the passage into the society! An entry ticket, and the price of it is neither money, nor your lives, but rather, your humanity!”

Cremal ripped the veil off his hood and grinned.

“I AM CREMAL DE VARSOL! BLOODLINE OF THE CAPTAIN OF THE TREASURE HUNTERS! AND I HEREBY CALL THE NEW BROTHERS TO TAKE UP THE ARMS IN THE NAME OF WEALTH! SLAY THE PEASANT AND TASTE HER BLOOD!”

Commotion arose after his speech, cheering and stomping, Hispida tossed his polaroid camera at 1 of the new acolytes and shouted.

“A SPY! WE GOT A SPY!”

The brotherhood turned to face the proclaimed spy, the guards by the stairs rushed into the room. Seizing the opportunity he made his escape, up the stairs and through the dark forest he ran. Back in the city he quickly disposed of his clothes and made for his office.

The morning after Mary received a call, when she arrived at his office, he was packing his belongings. He spoke in a rush, frequently checking the windows.

“Your husband, he formed a… new charity organization.”

He lied while throwing a pile of ‘unsolved cases’ into the fireplace.

“A charity of scholarly society, in research of hidden treasures to honor their ancestors. That’s uhm, that’s all there is to it. I guess he may have not uhm, wanted you to know of his interest in treasure hunting, perhaps…”

He continued to weave an elaborate lie.

“What’s the rush?”

She inquired watching the burning pile of paperwork.

“Oh, no, I just received an urgent case from the president of Zarya, an assassination attempt. So, I’ll be gone for a few months to work on uhm… that case.”

He glanced at her.

“Uhh, since the case turned out rather, bland, I won’t charge you!”

He concluded.

“Well, still do keep our contact a secret.”

She tilted her head to the side, confused.

“No, no! You worked hard on this case, I insist!”

She placed a thick envelope on the table. He glanced at it. ‘Cash… it’ll come in handy!’.

“Fine! I accept the payment since you insist. Well, if that’ll be all, I ought to head out now.”

He said, holding his suitcase in hand, he threw a top hat on and bowed to her. She wished him well and he rushed for the door, down the stairs and out the building. At the train station he bought tickets with cash. As he sat on the bench, nervously tapping his suitcase with his fingers, a voice whispered in his ear.

“Dear Sir Laberdev, we of the lemniscate society thoroughly appreciate and cherish your generous donation for our good cause and desire to invite you back to the hyena’s den to further discuss our good cause.”

Everything inside him sunk. His eyes widened, and soon met darkness.

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