The Winter Plot
A ciphered letter, found where it had no business being, put the Chancellery on alert: someone is prying for another crown. The Chancellery has caught only the end of the thread; the whole skein is still in someone's hands. On the Chancellery's list stand Sir Bogdan de Fag, Mihu the Archer and Mother Evghenia; one of these names covers a lie. Rumor walks the deed through every corner: the old chapel, the salt market and the queen's garden. Open the grid, weigh every clue, and pronounce your verdict: the Chancellery awaits only your signature.
From the Chancellery archive
Winter is the season of spies. The roads are empty and footprints show in the snow, but everything that gets said is said indoors, by the fire, where the walls are thin. The dossier titled “The Winter Plot” was opened when news that was never to leave the realm left it anyway.
Its difficulty lies not in the number of suspects but in the fact that all three have a legitimate reason to be anywhere at all. Sir Bogdan de Fag goes where duty sends him. Mihu the Archer is permitted on the walls and beyond them. Mother Evghenia enters the chapel at any hour, and nobody asks a nun why she prays at night.
The places set the tone by themselves: the old chapel, the salt market — where anything is traded, silence included — and the queen's garden, which admits no one without an invitation.
A tier I dossier, but not a dull one: here you learn that a good alibi is not the one that clears you, but the one that fails to agree with somebody else's.
Suspects
He pawned his armour to pay his tavern debts. Honour, he says, does not rust.
1.85 m
right-handed
blue eyes
brown hair
He hits a coin tossed on the wind from a hundred paces. At questions, though, he always misses.
1.76 m
left-handed
brown eyes
brown hair
She runs the abbey with an iron hand and a golden pen. The register of donations has pages she shows no one.
1.60 m
right-handed
dark eyes
black hair
Locations
the old chapel
Candles, incense, and a silence in which every footstep echoes like a confession.
the salt market
Here anything is bargained for, from salt to silences. The price of silence keeps rising.
the queen's garden
Roses trimmed to a line and paths you may walk only by invitation. At night, the hedge has ears.
Open the Grid (below) to solve the case, with the testimonies at hand.
Touch a cell: blank → ✗ (excluded) → ✓ (certain) → blank. Each pair of categories meets exactly once.
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Verdict
The culprit always lies; everyone else tells the truth.
- The traces left at the scene show it plainly: the culprit was in the place where every footstep echoes like a confession.
- A maid whispered it at confession: the suspect with dark eyes was in the place where anything is bargained for.
- The hounds caught no scent at all: the left-handed suspect never set foot in the place where every footstep echoes like a confession.