The Stamatins had always been the pride and joy of the Kain family. That influence had offered certain protections- namely that Georgiy was the sole Judge of whether or not anyone was guilty.
It never particularly bothered Saburov until one morning, the body of another architect, the builder of the Stillwater and the Cathedral, nicknamed “Farkhad“, was found under one of the Stairways to Heaven.
At first glance, it appeared to be accidental. The smell of twyrine and a bottle seemed to confirm it...
Until persistent rumors that Peter Stamatin was the last man seen alive with Farkhad that night.
Saburov had tried to get permission from the Kains to investigate the matter himself, but as far as that family was concerned, it was little more than a tragic accident, and besides?
“Don’t you have anything better to do than chase rumors, Alexander? It was an accident, the Stamatins are beside themselves, and are soon about to start on the most profound architectural advancement of this century. Go home to your wife and leave the affairs of the Kains to the Kains.”
Nina’s words. Simon and Georgiy agreed. He could not argue with the twins protecting their own set of twins.
But it gnawed at him that he was certain that Peter had gotten away with murder. “Inconsolable Architects“ and that horrific mural seemed to be more of a sneer than any real grief.
It was a case that ate at him for the last six years, and admittedly, while he initially favored Peter out of all the architects and artists brought in (because Peter was the more softspoken and earnest seeming one, and because of the artworks the Saburovs had commissioned), murder was still murder.
Or was it?
Dankovsky had recently given him reason to doubt that assumption, that Andrey was actually on the Staircase with Farkhad. The records from Burakh seemed to support the claim that Peter was a victim in the situation.
Burakh was right about the records being ghastly. God’s grace, he could see why Peter did not want to reach out for administrative help.
It would be a delicate situation to tread with both of them here.
He sits across from the twins at his home in the Rod. They had drifted so much from looking like reflections of each other. It had been some time since he had seen them in person- he could have sworn their eyes were brown then.
“Thank you for answering my summons voluntarily,“ he begins, “There are issues I would like to discuss with you involving an unsolved case regarding the death of the Architect ‘Farkhad’ -“ he’d be damned if he could remember the man’s real name, “- your cooperation would be most appreciated in the matter.“
His own sense of justice wouldn’t let him rest otherwise.
@bonefoundation / @polyhydra