[Maarten-witless? Rob the rulers of this house? Steal beasts?]
Demos looks incredulous, his sharp teeth glistening with drool. Openmouthed, all he can do is gape at me.
I roll my eyes. [It's got to be an inside job, yes? THINK, Demos. You are clever. Use that big brain of yours. You are a level above me. You are my kohai.]
[True, which means I get to correct and cuff you when you're talking nonsense.]
I plant my feet on the glowing mosaic. [Just hear me out. If I'm wrong, you can claw me to bits.]
With a huff, Demos sits on his haunches. [By all means. Be my guest.]
He smells intrigued, at least.
Gathering my thoughts, I lay out my argument.
[Maartenwitz has records of every beast that has ever belonged to this house. He knows their personalities. Their stats. Their secrets. Their gifts and strengths. Their flaws and weaknesses. He watches over everything like our conscience, our Jiminy Cricket.]
[Our WHAT? Oftentimes, you make no sense.]
[Legend from my part of the jungle. Never mind. As I was saying, Maarten-witless is an officious nitwit, but he's in the perfect position to steal beasts, or help someone pull off that caper.]
Demos' jaws snap at me. [Nonsense! He is a nitwit, but a loyal one. His entire life is those stats and those records and following us around.]
[How do you know? Do you follow HIM around day and night?]
For once, Demos has nothing to say in response. No sharp, superior jab. No snarky riposte.
I press my advantage. [You are so willing to blindly trust him. How many of the beasts in this house have innocently put their faith in him?]
[You, me, and the beasts that belonged to Master and Mistress. And the Master and Mistress before them. Maartenwitz started as just a child human, trained by his own father.]
I prowl around, cogitating on the info dump. [So he knows the house and the history. The family trusts him implicitly. Perfect inside man, if you ask me. As far as anyone here is concerned, his only crime is boring people to death. Oh, and add "having no life" to the list.]
Demos snorts with laughter. [Honestly. You're a terrible influence. But you contradict yourself. If he is that dull, then how could he possibly be involved in something so seedy as poaching?]
[If you think about it, most crime is dull. Steal stuff. Con people. Blackmail people. Forgery. Poach beasts, the way Queenie does. It's all pointless.]
Demos agrees. [Except murder.]
[Well, of course, and worse crimes...]
[Animal abuse.] Demos is beside himself at the very thought, his fur puffed out.
[Right! The worst. But most crime is actually dull. Except for the effects it has on people. Like what it did to this household.] I become animated, warming to my argument. [So, he's the perfect person. No one would suspect him.]
[Pffff.]
I narrow my eyes. [What is that supposed to mean?]
He looks bored. [Are you done with your little lecture? If not, a nap sounds nice.]
[This is serious!]
I smack him with my paw, but he just sits there, unfazed.
Honestly! I thought we were getting somewhere. I thought we were friends. I thought he respected me.
[Listen to me.]
[You really are such a baby. Do you really think that anyone in this house escaped scrutiny when Memo and Judo were stolen?]
I freeze. No one has spoken the names of the stolen beasts. Even the game system hasn't provided any information on them. Maybe that's because I've unlocked that knowledge by befriending Demos. Yes, that must be it.
[Memo and Judo?] I ask hesitantly.
[Memo, pronounced MEE-mo, not MEH-mo, belonged to Master Lamant. His sister Judo belonged to Mistress Minette.]
A wistfulness seeps through Demos' voice. This is a sore spot for him.
I rub up against him and nuzzle him to comfort him. [I'm sorry...]
[Oh, none of that now. You opened this nightmare box. You might as well know everything.]
[Tell me. I'm listening.]
He sighs, and I have the sense of a weight being lifted off him. [Of course everyone in the household was investigated, especially Ser Maartenwitz. He is, after all, the Steward of Beasts and Beast Taming. As you say, he's the first person anyone would look at. For at least a month, Master and Mistress probed into every dark corner of his life. Every secret. Every detail of his past. Not much there, by all accounts. He was raised by his maiden aunt when his parents died. Killed by monsters. But he developed a fascination with dangerous creatures. He had a go at beast taming but, well, you see the result.]
I make a tiny sound of agreement. [Perhaps he was haunted by his parents' deaths?]
[Perhaps. But who knows? He has never been the hail-fellow-well-met type, nor the sort to spill his secrets. Nor does he have a lady friend or a man-friend. His closest friend, off you can call him that, is Tomas.]
I listen attentively, hanging on every word. [And Tomas was investigated too. He seems popular with the staff and the Master and Mistresses.]
[HE has plenty of man-friends. But Mistress Vedette likes him, although it's merely a young lady's fancy, and she has other suitors.]
Oho, so Tomas is gay and Vedette is crushing on him. I love how Demos just spills all this fresh, steaming gossip. I guess we really are BFFs now.
I pause. [So, he's clean?]
[Well, he was suspected of being a thief. Of food and wine, not beasts. Of course, it was never proven. Master considers it just an ugly rumor.]
I growl, frustrated. [We have to find out who took Memo and Judo. Whoever did it could come for us, and Gussie. We promised to protect her.]
Demos stands, showing his muscles and power and fluffed-out fur. [Nothing will happen to you or Gussie.]
[I feel so much safer. But the two of us need to find the dirty rotten thief and stop him or her.] I stare Demos down. [Are you in or out? But I warn you, I'm going hunting for the thief with or without you.]