When Frodo returned to Gandalf's house, he went into the kitchen and found Merry there, reheating soup left over from last night's dinner.
"I thought you'd probably be in for lunch," Merry explained, "and I ought to have something ready for you."
"Thank you. It's almost like being home," said Frodo. This room, large, square-cornered, and flagstoned, wasn't as cozy as the kitchen at Bag End, but after the overheated, noisy bustle of the citadel kitchens, it seemed quite cheerful and pleasant. He set the table and helped himself to the soup.
As they settled down to have lunch, he began to tell Merry about his morning's exploration in the citadel. They were surprised when they heard the front door open and, after a minute, Gandalf came to the kitchen. "You're home early," Frodo said to the wizard.
"I'd heard you were about the citadel today, and I left in order to find you, Frodo. Beregond told me that you'd gone away alone. He should have escorted you."
Frodo realized that Gandalf had been frightened for him, and had come home to be sure he was all right. He hadn't been very alarmed when Beregond had expressed a concern for his safety, but if the wizard was worried too, then there must indeed be good reason for it. How odd to feel that he might be in physical danger over this investigation! Frodo couldn't recall feeling personally threatened during an investigation before, and only once when he'd met with murderers face to face.
"I'm fine, Gandalf," he answered. "It's only a short walk, and I doubt that anyone will attack me in the streets of Minas Tirith in broad daylight. We're hunting for a poisoner, remember? If I'm going to be truly well-protected, perhaps I'd better have someone taste my food."
Frodo turned to regard his cousin archly; Merry laughed and pushed away his half-finished bowl of soup. "Not me!"
Gandalf snorted. "Is there anything hobbits won't make jokes about?" he grumbled, but the hobbits knew he wasn't really angry. Frodo smiled at him.
"Only missing dinner," Merry rejoined. "There's nothing funny about that."
"I suppose you're right, Frodo," Gandalf said. "Little harm can come to you between here and the citadel, as long as you don't do anything foolish."
"I won't," Frodo promised. "I'll be careful. Beregond will go around with me tomorrow, just as he did today."
"And what did your investigations turn up?" the wizard asked as he took a seat and helped himself to some soup.
"I've had a look about the citadel and seen where two of the victims died. I've spoken to some of the Council, and learned the names of a few people worth suspecting. There are certain points I must follow up on if I'm to figure out which of them is responsible for these murders." Since he didn't have a pen or paper at hand to write things down, Frodo counted off these points on his fingers.
"I need to find this Broneron Strider spoke of, and the other Men who stood by Lord Denethor when he went mad. If Broneron believes that Carathir opposed him and had something to do with their dismissal from the Council, others might feel the same. It's possible that one, or perhaps all of them, have taken their revenge this way.
"I also want to visit the treasure-house and see the secretary who has taken Carathir's duties. A Man might go to great lengths to get his hands on so much gold.
"Next, I must look into the herbalist Bregilde's death. It seems to me that another visit to the Houses of Healing is in order. I'm sure Bregilde's niece can tell me more than she has, and I need to learn more about these poisons. I've been wondering how difficult it is to find nightshade growing beyond the city walls. If it wasn't taken from the herbarium, our murderer must have gathered the plants and brewed the poison him- or herself. Let's see if we can trace their steps. Would you mind, Merry, if I go with you and Lady Eowyn the next time you go out?"
"Of course I don't mind, and I don't see why Eowyn would either. What else can I do?" Merry asked. "'Tisn't fair that you keep all the fun to yourself."
"Yes, you're right. I can't go everywhere with Beregond trailing after me. If you want to help, Merry, can you go to the Steward's Arms first thing tomorrow morning?"
"In the morning? But they won't be open yet!" Merry protested.
"I don't mean for you to have an ale. You're to speak to the tavern keeper at an hour when he isn't busy with a house full of people. I want you to ask about the night when Caradan was poisoned. Ask especially about his servants. Were there any new barmaids or serving-women about the place at that time?"
While Frodo outlined these errands, Gandalf had been sitting and listening without interruption. The hobbit assumed that he would speak up eventually to offer some advice or suggestion on a line of inquiry, but Gandalf seemed to think Frodo was doing fine on his own. At this last instruction to Merry, however, the wizard's eyebrows went up and he began to look extremely interested. "You suspect a woman, Frodo?"
"It's an idea I have," he answered vaguely; Gandalf continued to regard him with curiosity. "Only a suspicion." He was thinking again of Bregilde. If she had poisoned Carathir and his son, she had probably administered the poison herself. How hard would it be for her to go in and out of a tavern or the citadel kitchens unnoticed? Out of her healer's robes, she would look no different from any other old woman of the city.
To Merry, he said, "We can begin all that tomorrow. But first things first--we have a call to pay upon the Queen and her ladies, including the elusive Tharya."
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