Approaching noon


The bespectacled junior assistant opened the door promptly. Since his return to the front lines of Edwin’s office he’d not put a step wrong and had fallen over himself to assist under Maurice Holmes’ guidance.

“Yes Minister?”

“This report from Four,” Edwin raised the memo from his desk, a very serious look on his face, which had only thinned and aged in the nine months he’d been in office. “Safe house last night. Find out what the bloody hell is going on and get someone from Four up here to explain themselves!”

There had been issues with those safehouses for months now, and this was the final straw in Edwin’s view. He was already tired from a long night dealing with a time-sensitive diplomatic disagreement. He and a select subcommittee of wizengamot had sat late into the night to resolve it. Now he had returned to the usual slew of full-moon related notifications.

Pickler had made to leave and stopped, sensing correctly there was more besides bringing more coffee.

“And Pickler, take this down. A report of all the safe houses, the names of attendants, last night’s attendees. Cross reference to the registry. We need a handle on the scale of this issue. Raise Speakeswell, copy her the memo and have her come to my office within the hour.”

He made a dismissive hand gesture towards Peter, who stepped out of the door, only to spot a wizard approaching through the office behind.

“Ah, Minister -“
     “Yes Pickler?”
“Mr Balfour Spectre to see you, sir.”

Edwin looked up, ever so slightly surprised to hear who was attending, expecting Ballantyne or Carter.

“Let him come.” Edwin got to his feet behind his desk to receive the wizard, memo still in hand, as Peter let Balfour into his office, and shut the door behind him.

He wasn't sure what inspired him to volunteer for this.

Possibly something to do with Solomon Carstairs' memo, and the sense of urgency it conveyed. A man had died but they had to act for the living - hopefully Mrs Lanningham was being her usual efficient self by checking in on the many beasts division employees. That didn't require his hand in it: she was more than capable, there were other things he could do. Balfour, even as he made his way through level one, was preparing himself to speak with Minister Glass.

He wasn't a fan of Edwin but he respected the authority and responsibility of the position. Something clenched anxiously in his stomach as he caught sight of the man in question, rising to his feet behind the great desk of the purpled carpeted office. “Let him come.” Glass intoned.

And here they were. Messenger, Minister. He took off his glasses, holding them awkwardly with both hands.

"Minister Glass. I'm afraid I have some bad news to deliver, from four." Balfour hesitated but quickly pressed on, knowing better than most that you couldn't mince words about a thing like this. Get it out of the way before someone assumed it was worse than the reality. "There was a Direwolf attack last night, sir. Alec Carter's home."

His mouth felt dry, it was still slowly entering his consciousness that the head of level four was dead and would never again sit at the desk he'd so unthinkingly occupied this morning. The wizard had done this before, delivered news of a death to other members of the Ministry - and then to their families afterwards. Once, at fourteen, he had been there when someone came to tell the family of his Uncle Mathias' death too.

"He's dead." Balfour finished earnestly, not quite meeting Glass in the eye. "WCU and two are on the scene right now, I'm to understand."

“Spectre.” Edwin greeted formally, his tone lacking any significant warmth of an ordinary visit. He was already keenly examining the Division Head’s pace, appearance and presentation for any indication of the impending message. The report from Four on the safe house incident was still clutched in Edwin’s right hand. Spectre held a pair of glasses in his hands, stood midway between door and leader of the magical government.

“Minister Glass. I’m afraid I have some bad news to deliver, from Four.” There was a hesitation, but Edwin maintained an unblinking stare towards Balfour, willing him to either speak more of the topic the report had summarised, or do worse.

“… direwolf attack last night, Sir. Alec Carter’s home.”

Glass set the report down on the end of his desk and stepped forward, empty handed. He was smartly dressed as ever, grey-green three piece suit, crisp white shirt, deep blue tie, polished shoes, thinning hair combed and set. The jacket of the suit was hanging from the back of his chair, sat before a busy desk, the blotter already sporting several folders, memos and reports. Above the normality of the office and uniform of a busy leader, Edwin’s face bore increasingly deeper frown lines from the stress of his work, mirrored in the fact his belt had drawn in by at least two holes since he’d taken office.

“He’s dead.”

Edwin swallowed, and blinked at last. He’d feared the worst given Spectre’s mannerisms, but Carter had been cut from stern stuff. One of his favoured Department Heads. They’d agreed on much, but not everything. No nonsense. To hear he was gone was a great loss to the Ministry, a greater loss to his family - who numbered the St Mungo’s Head Healer. Mourning and condolence would come as soon as protocol was enacted.

“And the direwolf is at large?” Edwin asked, much more quietly than he had addressed Pickler a moment before. The whole office had fallen still, save for the crackling of the grate and the subdued but pertinacious ticking of the grandfather clock.

“Who’s leading the scene - Ballantyne? Who is it from Two?” Edwin was immediately full of questions, unrelentingly focused on his messenger. To successfully handle this issue they had to be efficient and sensitive. He needed timely and accurate information before they could provide that to Carter’s family and provide appropriate support while meeting their legal requirements to investigate the incident.

“Is this related to the safe house breach last night?” He gestured backwards to the report he’d placed on the desk behind.

The Minister's reaction to news of Carter's death was grave and practical. They weren't, he supposed, drinking buddies or anything like that. Glass was full of questions instead of grief or anger: his voice was lowered, stance braced for what would come next. Balfour watched the older man carefully and wondered if he looked a little thinner than when he first came into office, a little.... lesser, somehow.

            “And the direwolf is at large? Who’s leading the scene - Ballantyne? Who is it from Two? Is this related to the safe house breach last night?”

"At large," he answered with a quick nod, running a hand through his hair distractedly, "Ballentyne's in lead with Bagnold, but I'm not sure who we've got on it from two. They've been -" Balfour hesitated, not wanting to use the word summoned, "- called to brief Carstairs, or else Bruce would have come herself sir."

Although he didn't think it was very clever of his friend to leave her division alone in the morning of a day like this, it wouldn't do to make her seem anything short of efficient in the Minister's eyes. Bruce hadn't been long in her new position and Balfour liked having her back on four, liked her presence and her passion for the work.

They were a family, after all, the whole department. His Ministry family. "As far as I can tell, the two incidents aren't connected," he continued with a shrug and tucked his spectacles into his pocket. "Two missing werewolves from the safe house," the division head explained, uncertain of what Glass already knew, "but the rest are fine, being processed on level two. You'll know as soon as they learn something significant."

At least he hoped Edwin would. He had so many worries about the safe house: whether the kidnappings were random, if they were related to December's events or some revival of Ira's sordid werewolf games. But that could wait.

"We're doing a staff check on four. Reconvening after I've gotten a chance to speak to next-of-kin, and Miranda," Balfour added, not wanting to make it seem like he was in a hurry to leave for trivial reasons, "if Law Enforcement hasn't gotten around to it yet anyway."

“… I’m not sure who we’ve got on it from two..

         … As far as i can tell, the two incidents aren’t connected.”

It appeared they’d sent Spectre up to appease the Minister given Solomon Carstairs was busy with Ballantyne and Bagnold handling the immediate incidents. He was a memo in human form, scant of any deeper information. The moment he dismissed Spectre he would have Carstairs send a proper briefing from Level Two. They were the larger Department with the capacity to do so efficiently. Four were split every which way with a much smaller team - it had always been the case. Edwin hadn’t been Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes for nothing.

“We’re doing a staff check on Four. Reconvening after I’ve gotten a chance to speak to next-of-kin, and Miranda. If Law Enforcement hasn’t gotten around to it yet anyway.”

“Do not be too hasty to inform the family, Spectre. One must have the detail - it is owed to the family to be precise and informed.” Edwin offered his experienced opinion given the holes in the information Balfour had been able to impart. “Despite the personal touch, you’ll need to inform them clearly of the circumstances, when they may be able to see the body, arrange a funeral. Though old man Carter may be rather seasoned with the press, the moment the word gets out, the Prophet will be at their front door.” The quieter tone had gained a sharper edge of caution to the Beast Division Head. He should know all this, but the Minister knew that adrenaline would often push action over consideration in the immediate aftermath of losing a colleague.

“I have Speakeswell on the way, you’ve no further information for me, so I shall seek it directly from Two and the Werewolf Wing shall spare a word.” There was no negotiation on that, even if it was a memo or a junior with notes from the scene. Bruce Ballantyne knew the expectation. “You shall go to Two first get your detail straight before you say a word to the Carters, do I make myself clear, Spectre?”

There was another knock at the office door, indicating more news or the aforementioned press officer had arrived. He gave Spectre a dismissive nod, releasing him.

           "Despite the personal touch, you’ll need to inform them clearly of the circumstances..."

As much as he was buzzing to get things done, Balfour calmed himself to listen to what Glass had to say. This wasn't just a trot down to the families of beast handlers after all - the murder of a Department Head by a direwolf, that was politically charged in a way he'd never had to confront before. This was headline-material. His first instinct was always to face problems head on by getting things out of the way but Edwin was preaching caution before action. Words of a politician.

With the violence done and over, maybe it was the time for politicians to be issuing orders after all. “You shall go to Two... before you say a word to the Carters...make myself clear, Spectre?”

Balfour glanced over his shoulder as a knock came at the door, and then turned back to the Minister with raised eyebrows. "Of course," he raised his hand in a casual two-finger salute before turning to leave. "Good luck, sir."

Awful as the next few hours would be for him, he knew that Glass was the fellow with the tougher job right now. Balfour knew how to deliver bad news; he knew how to hold hands, and speak consoling words, or keep a tactful distance from those whose grief would not allow for any kind of outside sympathies. But to face the press? The public? To worry over the placement of words in official statements and how they'd be taken by a mercurial eye?

Those were wolves of a different kind.