I debate giving him a lecture on the merits of customer service, but decide against it. It’s not everyday Raziel gets to have fun and solve murders so I leave him to it and whisk myself back to my coin. I spend the afternoon reading ancient books that have long ago been destroyed by time and try not to worry too much about warlocks, black magic, and imprisonment.

It’s morning when Raziel summons me again. I stand in the middle of the shop front and witness Raziel’s beaming face. “Utter success Henry.” He declares for his newest triumphant.

I smile at his enthusiasm, “And what have you discovered?” I ask patiently.

“Well, I did some serious sleuthing while you were napping. I managed to wheedle the theft report that was used for the insurance claim for the stolen artwork out of Dana.” The words are completely lost on me, but if Raziel notices my confusion he doesn’t say anything. “Basically Hawthorne lost almost a billion dollars worth of art on that night” I try to wrap my head around that amount. Even the concept of that number didn’t exist when I was alive, it’s a completely foreign idea. “and about a month afterwards our Mister Heins was interviewed by a business magazine where he proudly displayed his newly bought seven million dollar jet and ten million dollar yacht.”

I understand what a jet is, it’s a type of plane. I’d been quite awed to discover that man had taken flight during my departure and I sometimes like to watch the little specs of machinery flying through the sky from the front window. The word yacht, though, comes with no meaning to me whatsoever. “What is a yacht?” I ask for clarification before Raziel can move on.

“It’s like a really big boat. Rich people use them to host parties on.” He explains not sounding the least bit annoyed by my interruption.

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I nod in understanding. One thing I had quickly learned after returning to the land of the living was that the rich still like to display their wealth in ridiculous and flamboyant shows of decadence. Only before it had been spent on clothing and foods, now it appears to be spent on modes of transportation.

Raziel continues with his report, “So Heins, has spent ridiculous amounts of money which has seemingly come from no where, in my opinion this is suspicious enough, but then I got to thinking: why Marcus Holt? I looked at his police record before the murder and he’s clean. He never had a firearm registered in his name and the most incriminating thing on his record is a parking ticket he got when he was a teenager.” Raziel’s smile widens even bigger, “So I called Hawthorne and asked him how Holt became his landscaper and apparently he was recommended by a friend.”

“And I presume this ‘friend’ was Jacob Heins?” I venture a guess.

“Correct!” He crows gleefully. “The only thing I can’t prove is if any dark magic was used. Telemetry crystals are useless after so much time has passed and those things always give bad readings for artifacts anyway.”

“Yes.” I agree, “And there’s no way the guard is going to get involved without proof of dark magic.” Raziel smiles innocently at me and I’m reminded of the little boy begging me to teach him invisibility spells. A bad feeling begins to gnaw at me. “What?” I ask.

“So exactly how far can you travel from your coin?”

I scowl already understanding what he’s playing at, “Not far.” I growl out. Tristan had made sure that I was bound as tightly as possible to that coin. Even traversing all of Snowfield manor had been difficult for me.

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“But say I was waiting in the car on the road about twenty yards from the mansion… Could you travel that far?”

I close my eyes and try to picture the distance. At Snowfield manor if my coin was at the front of the house in Tristan’s office I could only just make it to the back of the manor before it started to feel like an ice pick was being stabbed into the base of my neck. But that had been when Tristan had possession of the coin. Raziel is different. I’d never felt that suffocating control exerted over me during his ownership.

“Maybe…” I give in.

I look through the car windshield at the setting sun feeling prickly and uncomfortable. I try not to look back at the lawn again that spans quite a few yards and I definitely try not to picture myself traversing said lawn by myself.

“This is a bad idea.” I announce pointedly.

Raziel sitting next to me rolls his eyes. “You’ll be fine. You’re just going in and coming out. It’s easy peasy.” He leans across the center of the car and stares out of my passenger window at the mansion. “Even though this place looks way bigger in person than it did online. It might actually take you a few minutes to find the gallery.”

“I’m not worried about once I’m inside.” I admit. No, it’s the initial trek leading up to the house. I hate being out in the open. I always feel like one strong gust of wind will dissipate my essence into nothing and no matter how many times I try to remind myself that that’s impossible the irrational fear still holds sway over me. It’s unfortunate that I can only teleport around places that I’ve been before.