“Oh good you’re here.” Lix pulled open the front door to the rainy alley, “I was beginning to think you were going to stand me up.”
”I wouldn’t dare,” came the sarcastic response and she let her taller cousin pass through the entrance and climb the stairs in front of her. She pushed the front door shut behind and followed him up the steep, narrow steps which led up to the living room and kitchen of 277b, home to Lix and Arcturus above the divination shop[1]. Over summer it had pretty much become Johann’s home too, though these days they more rarely received any owls for him, and he didn’t have any keys.

”You got any food?” Johann asked, reaching the top of the stairs ahead of her, shouldering off his leather bag and shedding his long wool coat to add it to the hooks on the right hand wall. He was wearing his usual work attire, navy blue suit, pale blue shirt, and dusted the rain off his dark curls while he peered at his reflection in the nearby mirror.
“I see, I have to bribe you to be here?” The Swedish healer-in-training tutted, walking past him to the left towards the kitchen. There was no doubt she would oblige though. “Do me a favour and boil the kettle then.”

The kitchen table was not covered in Elixa’s books and notes from her training today, but covered in other notes and copies of labels which she had brought to the Head Healer in December[2]. Miranda Elliot had not long been awake after succumbing to tainted potions and had been quick to dismiss Elixa’s investigation into the source of the tapered ingredients, using her knowledge as a former Drammes Apotheke branch manager. Elliot had requested she write a report, which Lix had duly done, but the Head Healer had been recovering, and then it appeared, had gone abroad between Christmas and New Year, and nothing of note appeared to have been done. Lix had submitted copies, suspecting her work might get lost in the mess.

“Did you eat lunch, breakfast or neither?” Lix asked, passing the table to the pantry to see what was available. She was waiting until Arcturus got back from his weekly Wednesday evening swim before they sat down to eat dinner. Hopefully the two wizards she was waiting for would both be gone by the time her housemate came home, only because Arc would be tired and not in the mood for company. When she received no response, she stuck her head back out of the pantry to find Johann leafing through her things on the table with a serious expression.

“Joh?"
”What?”
“Have you eaten lunch or breakfast?"
”No.”
“Idiot.” Lix uttered under her breath. “Leave that stuff. Boil the kettle will you?”

Seeing her relative turn away to the sink fill the kettle as requested, Lix in turn reached back into the pantry to figure out what she could feed him, but as she did there was a firm knock at the door downstairs. Never mind, he could navigate the kitchen himself if he got properly desperate before he went home to his keeper Balfour.

“That’ll be Adon.” Lix announced, closing the pantry door behind her. She hurried back down the stairs while Johann boiled the kettle and assembled three mugs, tossing a fruit teabag into the one for him, turning up his nose at the prospect of drinking it. At the foot of the stairs, Lix pulled open the front door once more.

“Hey, come in, we're upstairs, then to the left in the kitchen.” She greeted Eleor with a grin. Despite the fact it was clear he’d seen a lot of action as an auror, he was very easy on the eye and Lix had no qualms about greeting him warmly regardless of the subject matter ahead.
“Here, let me take that.” She gestured to Adon’s shoulders. "What can Joh get you, tea, coffee, something else?” They joined the third member of their little meeting by the kitchen table.

”Auror Eleor.” Johann greeted formally, visibly giving the other wizard a wary once over. They’d become somewhat formally acquainted last summer when Francis Pepper had turned him in after the werewolf fight[3]. Admirable auror, and clearly of interest to Lix given the way she’d chosen to wear something with a low neckline and leave her hair down that evening.

1.	Layout of the flat
2.	16 December 2010 Drammes, Scruples, Grains
3.	29 July 2010 Devil in the Details

Adon's smile was lopsided and easy, responding instinctively to Mordent's own manner.  They had never met, but even from the letter, he could tell she was a forthcoming sort.  Open.  And the accent confirmed it: clearly not British.

Adon had to bite back the snobbery instinctively.  Easily the most difficult adjustment from his home in Israel, aside from sunny skies and warm climate, was the equally warm temperament of its citizens.  There were outliers to this rule, though. Margot. Jonas.  Working closely with the likes of Carstairs and Raynor had been an education in manners: being proper was not always an indication of a moral primness nor an emotional stuffiness. (But sometimes.) 

He would say this about the British wizarding community--those born to it or removed to there--it had an improbably high proportion of fantastic-looking citizens.  It was almost as though someone had plucked the leading ladies and lads of the Muggle movies and series that Adon had grown accustomed to watching with his brother and Trevelyan.  While clearly not how this foreign world worked, it certainly made it easier to adapt to.  He smiled at the brunette; she was lithe and dark and certainly could have passed for Israeli, come to think of it.

She was holding her hand out for his cloak. "Oh!" he said, feeling a bit awkward at the gesture.  The red wool was heavy, with beaded droplets of rain still rolling off. Unclasping it, he gave it a slight shake before handing it over. "Thank you."  He wasn't used to taking it off; it simply was a part of his uniform, but it was... liberating.  Even if he did feel somewhat self-conscious of the sensible plainclothes beneath. 

He trailed after her as she made her way up the stairs.  It was a matter of habit to accept any courtesy offerings of food or drink. Back in Jerusalem, it didn't matter who offered--it would be violently insisted that the guest was acting in poor form, ungracious, even, if he did not accept. 

But they offer of Johann doing the serving... unexpected.  "Ah," Adon said, eyes widening with amusement at the way she expertly delegated to Storm, "Johann Storm is your acting barista, then?"  he gave a nod to the man, noting the formal tone.  They'd met in tenser situations last time, though not entirely dissimilar to this new bout of trouble.  Johann Storm had a time-proven ability to get in and out of trouble. It was an attribute any Eleor could admire, if not envy outright. "It's good to see you again. You're looking recovered--I was sorry to hear of..." he trailed off with a slight gesture of his hand.  Adon'd acknowledged Johann's unfortunate poisoning in the letter he'd sent out over a week ago.  The letter he never heard back from.  Whether it was a twist of fate, or Mordent's singular perceptive abilities, she'd managed to get Adon an audience with the man when he had not. 

"Whatever you're having's fine," he said, looking towards the kitchen, as though guessing what that might be. He wasn't picky.

...
...

Lies. 

Adon gave a self-conscious smile, deciding if anything it would be up to him to set the tone of the meeting.  Open. Upfront.  Light.  "Only I'm a horrible snob," he furthered, "I don't let anyone else prepare my coffee.  Ask my trainees. They seem to appreciate that, though."  He looked directly at Johann. "But if it's coffee you're having, I'm happy to serve."  He smirked. "You can thank me later."

"Johann Storm is your acting barista, then?”
“Pfft.” Johann let the unimpressed noise slip from his lips, only realising it might be rude after his ears heard himself.
"It's good to see you again. You're looking recovered--I was sorry to hear of…”

Johann’s eyebrow raised. He was thinking he couldn’t say the same for seeing Adon, but he kept his opinion to himself. Feeling suspicious, Johann didn’t make any effort to fill in the gap for the auror, and just let him have the moment awkwardly gesturing in the air.

"Whatever you're having's fine.” At this Johann’s eyes dropped to his own mug of what he called ‘fruity disgrace’ and back up at the auror, deciding Adon was definitely trying to be polite if he wanted to drink this awful stuff. "Only I'm a horrible snob, I don't let anyone else prepare my coffee.  Ask my trainees. They seem to appreciate that, though. But if it's coffee you're having, I'm happy to serve. You can thank me later.”

“I’m not.” Johann replied shortly. “It’s not my kitchen either.”

Lix’s features creased into a deep frown, a sure indication that he was being very rude.
”Coffee would be lovely, Adon!” She spoke a little too loudly and fixed her better-looking visitor with a bright smile, gesturing with both hands to the freshly boiled kettle. ”Here, everything’s in…” Rounding the other side of the kitchen table to Eleor, Lix gestured for Johann to get himself out of the way and he obliged without complaint, trailing the scent of blackberry fruit tea in his wake.

While Adon and Lix had a moment over coffee behind him (“do you have some special method, then? Sorry about him...”) Johann helped himself to what was closest in Arc and Lix’s pantry, which happened to be a packet of cheese crackers. He sat at the head of the table, his back to the living room, a clear view of all the kitchen and the other two. He’d have very much liked to have drunk coffee, but it was after five and he did need to sleep that night. From what he recalled of the sleep-starved evening on Level 2, writing a list of anyone who might associate with his father in relation to the werewolf fights, Adon made a very good cup indeed.

The coffee situation was easily diffused and Lix found herself nodding at Adon’s technique. It felt a little strange to have someone relatively unacquainted make it in her kitchen, but that was only because she and Adon hadn’t just staggered downstairs together nursing a hangover and in a state of undress. That was a more ordinary situation for someone not a close friend to be doing this. Lix tried not to dwell on the fact on realising it guiltily.

“So, take a seat,” Lix insisted, gesturing to the seat on Johann’s right. The papers on the table were spread about, but were in the right orientation for Adon to read easily from that side. Elixa took a seat opposite, ignoring Johann’s noisy crunching of a cracker for the sake of knowing he wasn’t going hungry. She supposed she ought to offer Adon something to eat, but in that moment she felt rather more excited at the opportunity to share her findings.

“Shall I erm, explain what all this is perhaps?” The former apothecary, now healer-in-training suggested, gesturing with both hands to the table clutter. “You wrote to me about the supplies contamination, and I wrote back to say I had a bit more information, well, if it hadn’t already been passed on to you.” The petite witch looked up at Adon and made eye contact, folding one hand over the other on the table as she spoke. “I think it’s been established now that Drammes Apotheke was the source of last December’s issues - well, in terms of willow bark and syrup of hellebore at least. Now, I used to work for them, for almost a decade. I worked my way up in one of their branches back home in Sweden until I was manager for the last five, and one year came over to St Mungo’s to encourage them to take up more supplies from Drammes.” Lix gave an awkward little shrug.

“When we started to figure out the source of it all, and because it was in the apothecaries in London we had to quickly identify the batch, or batches. Everything Drammes produces has a batch number to identify the sources and route of the product. Obviously to help in these situations, dispose of expired stock and also track which spoil and such.” She grasped a label and ran her fingertip along the number on it which was a mix of greek alphabet, numbers and other symbols.

“This bit tells us that the destination is London, so the labels are printed primarily in English, then here, that they were brewed in Paris.” Lix glanced up, thinking she was probably going over old news for Adon. “The place in Paris is huge. Hundreds upon hundreds of potions are brewed there every day. They go from there all over Europe. So to rule out a few possibilities, I contacted my old branch in Sweden and had them send me samples and labels from their stock. They were absolutely fine, see. Here’s one of their labels…” She grasped another label and held it beside the first. Part of the codes matched up to Paris, but the start and end differed. “It’s a different hellebore source, the start is different. Of course this bit is to say it’s going to Sweden, rather than London.”

Lix sat back up a little straighter, having leaned over the table towards Adon.
“There were two batches that were dumped in London for contamination, both have the same source, both were brewed in Paris. I couldn’t identify the source before Paris though, branches don’t get that sort of information, and nobody wanted to talk to me in Germany. I tried to get Joh to help me, but well, he was sick as a dog for a while, and when I told Miranda Elliot she just made me write up a report and submit my findings. I never heard another thing.”

Elixa frowned and shoved the English label at Johann at the end of the table. “You sure you don’t remember that or have an old list?” He gave a laboured sigh and a shrug, and did not pick it up off the table top. “I got Joh a contract for their head office years ago. He knows more about that end than I do, which is why I asked him to come by when you were here. We might be able to help. Or…” Lix blushed, “I may have just told you everything you already knew…”

"Turkish coffee is not much appreciated, here, I think.  It takes so long..."  It was a social thing.  Adon quite enjoyed the process of cooking.  But social calls were not the true reason for this meeting--if it were, this would have already been quite a failure, judging from Johann Storm's detached manner.  Adon supposed he could not have expected much else, but the German man's unexplained (if not unimaginable) prickly demeanor nettled Adon.  He felt like a dog with his hackles up as he, in reciprocated gloom, turned from Johann and back to Mordent.

Now, Mordent was another matter entirely.  Upbeat, forthcoming, talkative.

The contrast with Storm made Elixa Mordent's manner--and manners even more pleasant.  Following her to the table, his eyes traced the arrangement of parchment spilling across the table.  He nodded, eyebrows rising slightly at the knowledge that she was a former employee.  And... Joh.

The blood rushed from his face at the name he'd used for Jacoba--Johanna--from what felt like a lifetime ago. When they were Joh and Donnie.  Joh'd been one of the first to fall victim, and the news, arriving in the midst of Hanukkah celebrations, had brought a new level of gravity to the investigation he was now heading.  Dree had reached out to Sasha immediately, and, once assigned, Adon had made promises of justice to the boy that he hoped he could keep.

All this to say he needed to school his features a bit more.  He gave a tight-lipped sort of smile.   Mordent was unaware of this connection, almost certainly. While the rumors of their relationships had made the rounds on Level Two, it never hit the pages of Witch Weekly.  His eyes only flickered to Johann Storm--Joh, who had worked with and for Drammes--who did know of Adon's Joh; he was her cousin.  Adon had heard he'd been there when she died.  Jaw taut, he reached a hand down for a label and examined it, nodding along silently at Mordent's thorough explanation of the labeling method. She was a wealth of information; such a resource would have been even more invaluable earlier on in  the investigation.  Interesting that Healer Elliot/Storm had only asked for a brief report.  Perhaps something to bring up with her when he had a chance...Why this had not been shared. Still, the information had gotten to him eventually, if only in brief.  And Adon had been distracted: he had been more interested in interviewing personnel and he had not focused so much on particulars. 

Paris.  The thought made his head reel.  There were so many possible angles on this; Adon had assumed contamination had been local--either at Drammes in London or Mungo's--but Paris...

"They both came from Paris, then--all of the contaminated hellesbore?" he asked, voice slow, the buoyancy from coffee talk now only lukewarm.  Like his coffee would be, he thought as he reminded himself to take a sip. "Is it possible, then, that the contamination occurred there? But there have been no reported poisonings beyond Mungo's... Would there be a way to find out where any other batches sourced in Paris have ended up?"  If somehow they had not been distributed--unlikely after all this time--it could save lives.  And yet, Adon felt this had widened the focus of his investigation, not narrowed it.

Pressing his lips together as he thought, he rubbed his chin. This made it much more international.  International culprits were possible, but made this investigation infinitely more complicated.  He would have to hope--for many reasons--that St. Mungo's had been the sole target.

Johann’s eyes slid from one figure to the other sat at right angles to him. Lix was in her element, she was clearly excited to share this information, and enjoyed the opportunity. Johann bided his time, a bad feeling growing in his stomach over all of this. He was almost entirely sure - though he didn’t want to believe - that the work he had done in late November, early December for Ira Almasy had contributed. There was too much personal evidence, he could not deny it, but he wanted very badly to believe it was rare coincidence because it made the more rational, reasonable side of him feel sick.

“There were two batches that were dumped in London for contamination, both have the same source, both were brewed in Paris. I couldn’t identify the source before Paris though, branches don’t get that sort of information…” Lix explained. Johann’s eyes dropped momentarily to the paperwork on the table. He could identify it, certainly, but he wasn’t offering. "I tried to get Joh to help me, but well, he was sick as a dog for a while….” His gaze snapped up again. He shoved aside the pack of crackers, lightly sucking the last crumbs from his fingertips before dusting them off beneath the table.

“You sure you don’t remember that or have an old list?” In protest, he gave a laboured sigh and a shrug, and refused to pick the label up even though it was thrust at him. His eyes did examine it and his stomach churned. No more crackers. Lix was babbling on without much of a break, Adon somehow keeping up with it all. “I got Joh a contract for their head office years ago. He knows more about that end than I do, which is why I asked him to come by when you were here. We might be able to help…”

As Adon began to respond, Johann’s right hand went to seize his mug of fruit tea, fingertips of his left sliding the label towards him very gently so it was within easier reading distance without appearing he was overly interested in engaging.

"They both came from Paris, then--all of the contaminated hellesbore?”
”Yes.” Elixa confirmed with a firm nod. ”All the contaminated potions had come via Paris, both in the apothecaries and in the hospital.”

Johann slid the label properly to him and traced his fingertip along the batch code as he sipped from his mug, frowning.
"Is it possible, then, that the contamination occurred there? But there have been no reported poisonings beyond Mungo's... Would there be a way to find out where any other batches sourced in Paris have ended up?” Adon asked, and Johann saw his movement to examine the materials was now observed by the other two.
“The other ingredients from Drammes weren’t contaminated.” He explained, ”it was just the hellebore and willow bark sources.” He glanced to Elixa, “At least that’s what you surmised and explained to me in December.” She blinked and nodded, convinced he hadn’t listened to a thing she’d said back then.

Johann sighed gently and reached his hand for her to pass him the other label, figuring it was now more conspicuous not to assist given Elixa’s explanation as to why she had invited him along. His sharper looks to Adon eased as he explained, glancing up to the auror at regular intervals. He still remained professional in contrast to Lix’s enthusiastic approach, though. Just enough information, not too much.

“Paris is where Drammes brews a lot of their common lines for Europe. Enormous place, went once.” He shrugged, "The contaminated willow and hellebore were brought to that location and used for brewing. However, batches from different suppliers, and different ages aren’t mixed - they keep them logged and identified, ensuring ingredients don’t perish and such. Helps them to trace back if something goes bad, if someone’s goods are below quality.” Johann swallowed - he’d given much this explanation to Layton, Ira’s assistant when they were discussing how the supply chain worked at Drammes. He had been led to believe they were trafficking something rather than sending tainted ingredients.

He traced the fingertips of both hands over the numbers, comparing. It was too much temptation to be clever, to show off, even if he was helping Adon get one step closer to potentially uncovering Johann’s involvement. Arrogantly, he believed his forgery of Werner’s work to be untraceable.
“So yes, although the Swedish product was brewed at Paris, the source of hellebore wasn’t the same."

”Ok but where’s the contaminated stuff come from then?” Lix insisted, hands upturning on the table, forearms resting on the paperwork. Why hadn’t he done this back in December when she’d come to him?! She glanced to Adon, attempting to convey exasperation with a single glance, but just appearing to fret.

“They might not use the same codes,” Johann shook his head, evasive, but drew a deep blue quill from inside his jacket and split the long string of small print into chunks with sharp strokes. “Romania?” He suggested, sounding unsure, even though he absolutely was, "I don’t know the exact farm,” he did, “… would need to see the ledgers from distribution - but the country, that’s the symbol for Romania. And this one,” he did the same for the other label, “Poland, absolutely fine over there. Romania, uhuh...” Johann shook his head. “Well, either that or something indeed happened to it in storage at Paris.” He gestured to Adon for that thought and scooped up his mug again.

Adon frowned, slumping back a little in his seat as he processed the new information.  Paris was where they brewed a lot of their batches for Europe.  Narrowing it to Paris, then, wasn't going to be much of a lead. 

But he had a lead.  He had the point at which things broke down: he had the nonesensical answers of Heinz Werner from last month--the employee who had not shown for his shift the day after the poisonings because he had thought it was Tuesday.  He hadn't tried to run, but that was because he didn't seem to know much of anything.  There was Obliviation here in London.

At one point, Adon had written to Carstairs stating that the culprit likely had intelligence into medical workings and practices.  That they might have an even personal connection to the healing vocation--explaining a motive.  But Adon was getting a sick turning in his stomach.  You didn't need to have a healer's robes to understand this.  Even he could see how you could work the system.  This was all procedural; administrative. Technical and complicated, yes, but not exactly medical.

Johann Storm was talking about Romania.  "This is good to know--about Romania," he said with a grateful, albeit distracted, nod to Johann.  Yes, yes. It was good to know where it had come from--it was part of the thorough investigation.  "But I very much doubt a batch of disgruntled hellesbore farmers sent a package with love to St. Mungo's..."  That had come out harsher than he had meant it. Adon looked to the man, reading for any symptoms of clamming back up.  And Storm was just starting to come out of his shell, too. Tender little mollusk that he was.

Elixa on the other hand, leaning over the table towards him, didn't appear to have much shell to speak of.  Not that Adon was complaining, he noted with a sidelong smile in her direction.  It was... refreshing.  She was attractive, open, forthright, attractive, and had managed to get Johann Storm to appear, of all people.  She was practically a unicorn in this investigation; it was nice to know such rare creatures still existed.  (Not that Mungo's didn't have its share of attractive healers to go around; they just all seemed... well, likely to spit venom at him for asking too many questions.)  Storm was more of a thestral: he only seemed to appear to Adon after something horribly grim had happened first.

"Perhaps I'm letting our attention be misdirected a bit," he said, nodding. "This is good to know, but... " They also had the mushrooms and a still-unidentified venom in play here, too. He worked his words slowly as he thought.  "The odds that hellesbore and willowbark--from different sources--would be routed to Mungo's alongside products independent of Drammes, all to arrive at the same day..." That'd be a lot of angry farmers throughout Europe.  No, all indications were strong that there was an outside force with insider knowledge working the system.  "Coincidence is slim to none, yeh?" he asked. 

"So," Adon's voice was distant, hands running over the stubble on his chin, "if I'm to understand correctly--if someone knew about a contamination at any point, be it Romania or Paris or after, all it would take to get the desired product to a specific place would be to place these," he said, picking up a label, "onto the right phials and get them through customs and Drammes' intake procedures."

He frowned. "Do things get shipped direct from Paris to London I take it? Who is responsible for signing off on them once they're here?" A test.  He was wondering if either would react to the words Heinz Werner.

Elixa and Johann were unaware of certifier, Heinz Werner’s unusual behaviour on the second of December[1]. Elixa did not know of Werner, but would have made an educated guess at what he might do to a shipment based on his job title. Johann, in contrast knew him enough to know the names of his children and be recognised in return. All of the day’s transaction had been wiped from Werner, given his misunderstanding of what day of the week it was.

Sat across from Adon, Elixa’s brow was furrowed at talk of Romania and Poland. If this had been an accidental contamination, a failure of the supply chain to notice it at the farm, it would have been picked up in Paris as far as she was concerned. She nodded to Adon’s observation that it was unlikely the hellebore farmers would know where their product would end up. His smile to her was returned briefly.

”The odds that hellebore and willowbark - from different sources - would be routed to Mungo’s alongside products independent of Drammes, all to arrive at the same day…” Lix shook her head. It seemed entirely improbable.
“That sounds far fetched at best.” She agreed. “And, yes, they do. Brewed there and then over to here to be used. I found the contaminated products in all London apothecaries who had chosen to stock the lines, and of course in the hospital.

”Who is responsible for signing off on them once they’re here?” Adon asked.

“At the hospital - the apothecaries receive shipments and verify they are all in. They come with certificates, so we just verify those are present and correctly dated, and the shipment numbers match. I mean, we don’t check every bottle before it is used - the reason to use Drammes and their competitors is because you pay for the testing and the guarantee of the potions to be brewed before they arrive - take the pressure off brewing them on site. I - was working in the hospital apothecary before I restarted my training.” Lix explained, attention solely on Adon now across the table. "We used to spot check, but… sometimes it was so very busy it was more of a random check when we had time.” She blushed, feeling terrible for matters now what had happened.

“But it could have been done at Paris - contaminated there. Certificates made despite the batch failing tests. A plant in there? As for the other places, I don’t know enough about their routes to help. But I agree, this is no coincidence, and very targeted to London.” The trainee healer deflated, chin propped on the heels of both her upturned palms, elbows on the edge of the kitchen table. Now she felt discouraged that despite her searching they were absolutely no closer.

1.	Werner was attacked in Romania at the farm, not in London, and is at the start of the process, not the end

"They come with certificates, so we just verify those are present and correctly dated, and the shipment numbers match." Adon frowned thoughtfully.  Yes--it lined up with what he'd learned from the administrative staff at Mungo's. 

"It also seems unlikely that there'd be a plant at every individual apothecary and Mungo's, all ready to cast a blind eye and certify," he added on.  "You're right. Much more likely someone in a place like Paris on the distributing end than the receiving--if Drammes' offers assurance and testing, as you say." Elixa seemed to be wilting, the picture of dismay--Adon felt almost guilty.  And Johann still seemed, well... Adon never fully understood people who were not forthright with their emotions.  Years of contending with Dreogan--and his infuriating insistence that people always get the benefit of the doubt--had taught Adon that it did not always serve to assume people were hiding something.  It was investigator's paranoia, Dreogan said.  Adon liked to call it 'gut instinct.'

He raised his eyebrows, looking to Johann for some sort of input.  No? Nothing?

"Well," Adon sighed, "At the very least, Drammes is ready enough to comply with requests." Adon scanned the pair.  "They've mentioned me potentially interviewing a subject--Heinz Werner, one of their inspectors. Do either of you know him from your time at Drammes?"  A shot in the dark, but Elixa was impressing him more and more by the moment.  And Johann? Well, perhaps he'd need to provoke a response outright.

”The odds that hellebore and willowbark - from different sources - would be routed to Mungo’s alongside products independent of Drammes, all to arrive at the same day…”
“That sounds far fetched at best.”

Johann tried not to smile into his blackberry tea since Eleor and Mordent were looking at each other and not at him.  Not ‘far fetched’ but perfectly choreographed.  Nothing less for Ira Almasy: theatre.

"You're right. Much more likely someone in a place like Paris on the distributing end than the receiving--if Drammes' offers assurance and testing, as you say.” Eleor agreed with Lix’s confession about the spot testing at St Mungo’s.  Johann finished his fruit disgrace and set the mug aside, deciding it would not be the moment to also remind his cousin that the apothecary at the hospital was not the most secure.  He had charmed a former apothecary to steal strong sleeping potion at his worst, something his arrogant, too clever for his own good side delighted in achieving.  St Mungo’s had been very good not to report the thefts officially to Level Two. Adon was looking at him, and Johann glanced up, raising his own eyebrows in query, wondering if he’d missed a direct question.

"They've mentioned me potentially interviewing a subject—Heinz Werner, one of their inspectors. Do either of you know him from your time at Drammes?”

Lix frowned, fingertips pressing against her lips as she considered the name. Johann reached for the crackers and made a point of folding over the end of the packet in preparation for putting them back in Arcturus and Elixa’s pantry.  It meant he didn’t have to make eye contact or feign a convincing thinking expression for Adon to examine.
“No, I can’t think of a Heinz. Only, well, the baked beans[1] my Dad[2] raves about and asks me to owl him back to Sweden...”

Johann chuckled, amused, as he had carried some of those over for her once when visiting Scandinavia on business.
“The name rings a bell,” he confirmed to Adon, “not for beans. Worked there a long time I think? Durmstrang alumni.” He pushed his chair back and turned toward the pantry to put the crackers back, keeping his tone more conversational. "Are they offering him as a witness in the process? Oh, there, found him.” He reached out a tin of the aforementioned beans from the pantry, waggling them before putting it all back and closing the door after him.  He didn’t retake his seat, but lingered behind Elixa. “Yeah, good man. You don’t think he’s fiddled things have you?”

1.	Heinz Baked Beans
2.	James Mordent

Well, Adon had learned at least one thing in all this: both Storm and Mordent seemed extraordinarily fond of beans.  Was this an expat thing? An England thing? Did he miss a joke, here?  Adon gave a weak smile as Johann produced the bean can.  That made more sense, now that he saw it.  Too late for a laugh, though.  Best move on before people caught on to how confusing this all had been.

Moving on was easy, as it turned out.  For someone who, for all intents and purposes, had acted as a surly bump on a log for the majority of the conversation, Johann Storm seemed suddenly animated.  Not quite talkative, but certainly more inquisitive. 

To be fair, Adon thought with a bit-back sigh, he had not been a total bump on the log.  But everything felt like pulling teeth.  It was odd--him wanting more.  And standing.  Adon's mind went back to his earliest interviewing trainings.  There was a reason all those Muggle cop shows showed the seated suspect while the cop paced.  It was a power imbalance.  And here, Johann was using it--whether he meant to or no.  He was at once distancing himself from Adon's questions by leaving the table, and becoming the questioner himself.

Adon's lips pursed into a momentary frown.  Damned if he was going to let this get away from him.  He took what he'd learned from Jonas Trevelyan, the perpetual underdog.  If Johann was going to powerplay this, he'd let him.  But on his terms. "Nah," he said easily with a shrug.  "At least not intentionally.  But he could potentially be a good lead, regardless."  He'd keep that information, thankyouverymuch. 

There was one thing that stuck out, quite clearly.  Good man. "You know him personally, then?" Even seated, Adon suspected he could question Johann Storm, when pressed to. After all,  'name rings a bell,' didn't quite line up with 'good man' or knowing Werner's alma mater.  Werner could not have overlapped with Johann. He was, by his records, too old.  And no matter what distance Johann placed himself from the table, Adon didn't have qualms bringing the question to his door.

"At least not intentionally.  But he could potentially be a good lead, regardless.”

Johann frowned, as if making out he was wondering how Werner could have helped poison people unintentionally.  He damned well knew how.

"You know him personally, then?” The linguist leaned forward, clasping the back of Elixa’s chair with both hands and braced his arms.  His navy blue suit jacket bunched a little at the shoulders over his pale blue shirt as he shrugged.
“Knew, is probably a better description,” he clarified. “I contracted for Drammes for four years, stopped a couple of years ago.  I met a lot of people, it’s a big company.  Not in touch with all that many.  Not Werner, anyhow.”  The right hand corner of his mouth curled up in a momentary smile. “I haven’t seen him since I worked there.  We didn’t work together, just two cogs in a much larger machine. People didn’t gossip about him though, seemed alright from what I remember.” He shrugged again and stood up properly. “Hopefully he’s able to fill in a few of the gaps.”

“Yes,” Lix agreed from below him, rather more genuinely. “He should at least be able to confirm the route these took. If he’s certifying things he should be testing them. I mean, that’s his role, isn’t it?” Johann reached for his empty mug and turned his back on them both to use the kitchen sink.  Lix’s hands shuffled some of the papers on the kitchen table between her and Adon.  She was thoughtful, trying to think if there was anything else she could offer the auror to help.  It didn’t help that the company had clammed up to Adon.  They had responsibilities to disclose matters, and it gave Lix a very bad feeling.  “It’s people like him that the hospital pay Drammes to employ to prevent this sort of thing.  I imagine they go all over the place, don’t you Joh?”

“Everywhere,” he agreed, rinsing out his mug. “Drammes has its roots in more countries than most could name.  Their turnover is huge, but this incident will have put a huge dent in their income, and worse, their reputation.  Even if Werner’s squeaky clean, they’d use anyone as a scapegoat.” He turned on the spot, drying his hands on a tea towel as he did.  Lix looked up and frowned, reading his intentions in his body language.  Johann was taking no pleasure in discussing this, and his restlessness was rude.

“Look, I’ve got to get off.  Best of luck Aur- Adon.” He gave Eleor a nod as he walked behind the auror’s chair and headed for the top of the stairs back down to the alley. He reached for his coat as Lix rolled her eyes and gave Adon an apologetic look.


End