Thordric attempted to force the compartment, digging his nails into the slots aggressively. Still it didn’t open, and he looked around for something more substantial to use as a lever. He tried some of the pens on the desk, and then his house keys, but nothing quite fit. He was about to give up when the inspector pulled out his moustache comb. It was thin and made of metal, with teeth sturdy enough not to bend. Perfect! Thordric snatched it up, almost jarring the inspector’s finger up his own nose, and prized it into the small gap. He tugged at it, and with a small pop, a cube of wood shot out and landed at his feet.
In the space where it had been was a glass bottle inlaid with silver, half full of pink liquid. Thordric pulled out the vial of Kalljard’s stomach contents and held it up aga
