As a college student, I glanced sharply at Herschel. Hastily, he offered an explanation.
“It was a joke.”
“Don’t joke like that. It’s scary.”
I broke a cookie in half, eating one part and pushing the other toward Herschel. It was delicious, a cookie with fruit jam hardened like candy.
Herschel, seemingly not having much of an appetite, nibbled at the corner of the cookie while we continued our conversation. When I asked if he felt any eyes on him or if anyone had threatened him, he laughed, saying it felt like an interrogation. Of course, I couldn’t laugh along.
Satisfied that he was safe, I checked the time and stood up to leave. Herschel, noticing how I enjoyed the cookies, handed me the whole box.
“Give some to Liam too.”
“I will. I should get back and make sure the kid eats lunch.”
“Make sure he doesn’t avoid his vegetables.”
Not eating vegetables, huh? This insincere person. Tonight’s dinner is broccoli soup. I’ve decided.
＊ ＊ ＊
When I got home, Mary greeted me warmly.
“Miss! You’re back?”
“Mary. Have you eaten?”
Mary nodded and smiled brightly, extending her hand.
“Let me take your coat.”
Sometimes, Mary treated me like a young lady. I often felt embarrassed and would refuse, saying I could do it myself, but she always insisted.
“I’ll iron it and return it.”
“There’s really no need….”
“I want to do it. Oh, please check on Mr. Moore. There seems to be quite a commotion upstairs. Things must not be going well. The door is locked, so I couldn’t even look.”
Liam? That doesn’t sound right. If something’s not going well, he usually buries himself under the covers in a corner of his bed, not causing a ruckus.
If he’s stuck on a case, he usually gets depressed, skips meals, and shuts himself in his room. This is strange. Maybe I should check on him.
After quickly preparing a few simple dishes downstairs, I went up. I set the food on the sofa table and knocked on Liam’s door. He should be up by now or at least awake.
“Liam. Get up. It’s already noon.”
But there was no response from inside. I couldn’t just stand there forever, and if Liam Moore was really tearing things apart in frustration, I had to stop him.
What if he’s crying inside? Am I underestimating how fragile he is?
I turned the doorknob gently. It was a bit stiff, but after a few tries, it opened. The room was pitch black. It looked like a hideout for criminals. I made a sarcastic remark.
“Are you some child of darkness? Why is this room so dark…?”
Then I lost my words and could only stand there, staring into the room.
He must have been conducting another experiment. I tried to think that, but my mind assessed the situation with brutal rationality.
Sunlight flickered through the torn blackout curtains, giving an eerie feeling. Like lightning, the sunlight irregularly illuminated the room. The window was open, and the furniture was in disarray. And…
Ah.
I recognized this smell.
A heavy, metallic scent filled the air. Did you know that blood smells like trampled roses? The sense of life ebbing away, the liquid flowing from artificial wounds evoked the scent of crushed roses. It’s strong and nauseating.
The room’s air was thick, filled with a pervasive stench that spoke of one undeniable fact. My legs buckled. Clinging to the doorknob, I muttered.
“This can’t be happening.”
I laughed. Really, this can’t be happening.
“Liam, stop joking. This isn’t funny.”
But it wasn’t a joke at all. If this was a joke, Liam Moore was the world’s biggest bastard. Because in the middle of the room, there was nothing but broken glass and a pool of blood.
There seemed to be something more, but I had no gloves or anything else. So… I had to go to the police without knowing what had happened to Liam Moore. I understood that.
Oddly, my feet wouldn’t move. Don’t hesitate. You have to go. You have to go quickly to avoid losing any evidence. Evidence can easily be contaminated, and this is a private house. Who knows what variables there might be? But why can’t my legs move?
I took a breath. I raised my head, blinked my eyes, and even turned the doorknob—all under my control. But why did my legs betray me?
I wanted to go in and check. My heart said so. I wanted to rush in and cling to any remaining thread of hope. But my head said:
“I’ll be right back.”
It’s true. I’ll be right back. The words I muttered sank shapelessly. No, it seemed ridiculous.
After being stabbed to death in the fog, I thought about what I would think if I saw Liam Moore. I thought he might look at my death with a cold face, without any emotion, just knowing he once knew a woman like me. Of course, I thought of him as a piece of data back then, but now I realized something clear.
The truly cold one was me.
Not a single tear fell. What was there to blame? The fact that I didn’t immediately rush into the room was really chilling. Yet my head naturally defined this place as a “crime scene.”
My grip on the doorknob loosened. Only then did my legs move.
Seeing my pale face as I descended, Mary seemed to guess that something terrible had happened upstairs. Or maybe I brought the smell of blood like rain clouds bringing rain.
I staggered, pulling on a coat. It’s large. Whose is it? The sleeves were a bit long, but I didn’t care. I had to hurry.
My mind was a mess. Only one thing was clear.
Liam Moore was the new victim.
＊ ＊ ＊
I headed straight to Scotland Yard, preserving the crime scene as best as I could. Giving the coachman five times the usual fare, I discovered that even a carriage could drift.
“Move aside, move aside! Hyah!”
People screamed or protested as we passed, but we arrived much faster than expected. It was worth paying extra to avoid haggling and change-making.
Arriving in a hurry, I dashed toward the entrance.
“Miss? Do you have any business, Miss!”
A woman with a pale face, wearing a man’s coat over her dress, running inside must have caused quite a stir. Unable to stop me, a policeman followed me inside. People stared, but I ignored them, looking for Tobias Jefferson with my eyes.
I had just reached the second floor when the officer grabbed my shoulder to stop me.
“Hey, Miss. You can’t just—”
In my defense, I was extremely nervous. So I did something not very law-abiding (though working as Liam’s assistant had occasionally led me to do some illegal things). I pulled out a gun and pressed it lightly to the officer’s side. Thanks to our close proximity and the coat, others couldn’t see it, but the officer swallowed hard.
I had no intention of actually shooting. Sometimes, threats work better. I whispered in a low voice.
“Stay quiet. If you interfere, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
Threatening a police officer probably wasn’t allowed. Oh well. If they fined me later, I’d just pay it.
Right now, I had no time for propriety. Recognizing the commotion, Inspector Tobias Jefferson saw me and rushed over.
“What on earth… Jane?”
He was the type who could recognize if someone was armed. Seeing me pressing a gun to his subordinate’s side, his eyes widened.
“…Let go of her shoulder.”
“Yes, sir….”
As the officer released my shoulder, I holstered my gun. Watching the black revolver disappear into my coat, Jefferson sighed tiredly, rubbing his face. For a moment, he looked extremely aged.
I felt a bit guilty seeing that. A woman pulling a gun in the middle of Scotland Yard would exhaust anyone.
“I’m sorry. It’s urgent.”
“It’s alright. That one’s a rookie, not very flexible. I’ll have to make sure anyone from Bailonz Street gets immediate entry from now on…. So, what’s the matter? Did Liam send you?”
“Well, actually….”
Where should I start?