“Listen up, everyone!” The bald agent, a figure of pure muscle in his crisp Prussian blue uniform, yelled, commanding the hall. “I’m Agent Mulder of the Fairy Bureau of Intelligence, and by the Queen’s direct order, I am in charge of this case.” His voice dropped slightly, remaining perfectly audible. “Her Majesty demands this case be solved tonight to avoid international conspiracy rumors in tomorrow’s news. Now, who is the head of operations in this Salon?”
“Me, sir. I’m Ali, the Head Waiter,” Ali responded quickly, stepping forward.
“How many employees and guests are present tonight? Get me a printed list of every single person, and we also need to check the surveillance footage.” Agent Mulder’s cold eyes scanned the crowd. “I will be investigating everyone.”
“The monitoring room is underground, sir. I can show you the way. We have a total of sixty-one people: fifteen staff members—that’s six servers, four security guards, three chefs, and two bartenders—and forty-six guests. I can print the full register from my office,” Ali stated, reciting the numbers with remarkable composure.
Just then, Trevor noticed the waitress with chestnut hair—the one he’d bumped into earlier—slip back into the room. She was talking quietly with a tall, thin waiter not far from his table.
“Where have you been?” the waiter asked, his voice low.
“To the private suite,” she whispered. Trevor couldn’t make out the rest, but Spion was watching them intently too.
“Agent Scully,” Mulder said, pointing to a sharp-featured female agent. “You go with Mr. Ali to his office. Ensure nothing is altered. Agent Chuck, you go to the monitoring room to get the recording footage.”
“This is insane! How dare you hold us here for an investigation! Do you know who I am?” A stout man in a dark carmine suit, whose lapel boasted the Queen’s head badge, bristled. “I’m Lord Schwarzwald, chairman of Wolf Tech! I dine with the Queen! I had dinner with Her Majesty just last week!”
“This will be a small chat, My Lord,” Agent Mulder replied with a mocking smile. “Less than five minutes for everyone.”
“I’ll not be saying a single word without my lawyer!” Lord Schwarzwald sputtered, pulling out his ornate phone, a call quickly mirrored by many other prominent guests.
“I guess we have no choice but to cooperate,” the Duchess murmured. “Officer, what are we permitted to do while you investigate?”
“Enjoy the party,” Agent Mulder said easily, waving a dismissive hand. “Just stay clear of the crime scene.”
It was only then that people realized the FBI agents had already secured the area. They had moved the Ambassador’s body, drawn a chalk-white outline on the glass floor where he fell, and were now quickly erecting silver privacy screens to isolate the area.
“Is there a quiet room I can use immediately?” Agent Mulder asked a waiter nearby.
“There are private suites on the second floor,” the waiter replied.
“No, too far. Somewhere closer.”
“You could use the reading room next door.”
“Good.” Agent Mulder nodded. Moments later, Agent Scully and the Head Waiter returned with thick stacks of printed paper. Mulder quickly took the lists and scanned them.
“I doubt we’ll finish quickly,” Agent Scully said listlessly, rubbing her temples. “Check the list. This place is complicated. And I had originally planned to take my kids to Yellowstone National Park next week—since the government shutdown, the entrance fees are waived.”
Agent Mulder ignored her, reviewing the list. He addressed the Head Waiter once more. “I will use the reading room for questioning. Meanwhile, keep your guests pleased. I don’t want these Lords and Ladies starting a riot; their families have too much influence, and I can’t afford to offend them. I’ll start with your staff first, then the Premium Zone guests, and the rest later.”
He then looked slowly around the hall, his cold, assessing eyes settling on each terrified guest. “Once you’ve been interviewed, you’re free to leave… unless I suspect you.” He then turned and left with Agent Scully and Ali, the Head Waiter clearly the first person on the interview list.
“Let’s move back to our booth,” Lady News suggested. “It looks like this will be a long night for us.”